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themultifanshipper · 24 days

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Soo I'd like to request Lando ...taming his little bratty girlfriend after date night.....with lots of unholy activities. Be creative and spontaneous...iykyk

You were thrown mercilessly onto the bed, Lando climbing over you and ripping open your dress to mouth at your tits.

“You've been fucking with me all night. Now it's my turn to fuck you until you scream”

Warnings: Dom Lando, sub reader, very bdsm guys, dirty talking, masturbation, restraints, use of multiple toys, PinV sex, PinA sex (technically), anal, oral, creampie, spit, choking, slapping, spanking, subspace, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, crying, honestly it would be shorter to say what's NOT in this fic

Okay, maybe you'd been a bit of a brat during date night. But who could blame you? You had the sexiest boyfriend ever, and he'd decided to wear your favorite suit.

Yeah, that one. The one he knew drove you absolutely wild for him.

So you decided to wear his favourite dress in retaliation. The one that went a bit too low and showed off a bit too much. It was his favourite colour too, and seeing it on you made him feral.

That was strike one.

Strike two was slapping his ass when he got up to go to the bathroom at dinner, in front of Charles and Alex, who you were on a double date with.

He glared at you before turning on his heel and storming off, but he still heard you giggling with the others behind his back.

Strike three was sliding your hand into his lap and slowly inching towards his rapidly growing bulge.

At first he let you indulge, wondering how far you would go, and your hand squeezed him through his slacks, getting him hard as a rock.

He was nothing if not an exhibitionist, but doing this in front of his friends was a bit much.

It's when your hand actually slid into his underwear suddenly that his knee jerked and hit the table, causing a slight distraction while he ripped your hand away and took a deep breath to calm himself down.

Strike four was pressing yourself all over Charles while hugging him goodbye. Charles was clueless, and Alex was quite amused by your antics that were obviously meant to rile up your boyfriend.

Strike five was when you pressed him against his car in the parking lot and slid your thigh between his, capturing his lips in a heated kiss.

Normally this wouldn't have been a problem, he rather liked being manhandled, but for the fact that there were paparazzi outside the restaurant and they got few shots of you two almost fucking on his car. And he knew you'd done it on purpose.

Strike six was when you tried your shit again in the car, trying to get him hard while he was driving, but he quickly shut that down and growled at you to wait until you got home.

Which led to strike seven. You decided to be even more of a little shit and start touching yourself in the car.

At first he didn't realise what you were doing, thinking that you putting your feet up on the dash was just to stretch your legs and get comfortable.

But when you spread them and he saw your hand trail down your leg, he gripped the wheel tight and took another steadying deep breath.

But it was impossible to ignore the wet sounds of your fingers inside your needy cunt as you thrusted them fast and hard to get his attention.

“I know what you're doing” he said casually, looking at the buildings pass by.

You hummed, slowing down your movements. “What's that?”

“You're trying to get me to pull over and fuck you, but it's not going to work. So why don't you pump those fingers some more and let me hear how desperate and wet you are for me”

You did as you were told and even added a third finger, stretching yourself out and moaning unabashedly next to him.

“Look at the state of you. Such a greedy fucking slut you couldn't even wait until we got home. Well you know what's waiting for you when we get there, right?”

You gasped. He knew exactly what his words were doing to you and you knew exactly what he was talking about.

Might as well enjoy yourself in the car while you still could.

Your other hand went down to your clit and rubbed it in tight little circles, just how you like it.

Your soft sounds of pleasure were driving Lando mad, but he managed to hold on to the steering wheel and not do anything stupid. The wait would be worth it in the end.

He could tell you were getting close by the little puffed out moans you were making, and he smirked.

“You want to come so bad, don't you?”

Your head snapped in his direction and you looked at him with puppy eyes. He refused to look at you.

“Yes, I'm so close. Please can I come?” you panted.

He chuckled “I'm not stopping you baby, if you want to come go ahead”

You let out a soft moan of triumph.

“But, if you come I'm not touching you for a month”

Your hips stuttered and you whined. “Nooo why?”

“Because baby, you've been a bad girl tonight. And bad girls don't get to come on their own fingers”

You squirmed in the seat. “Please! I promise I'll be good.”

He laughed at you “we both know that's an empty promise. You're too much of a brat to stick to your word”

You huffed like a child as you retreated your fingers and crossed your legs.

“You're so fucking mean”

There was a pregnant pause while he turned in to the underground parking garage.

“And that's strike eight. You sure you want to keep going?”

You eyes widened. Fuck. Eight already??

“No” you mumbled.

“No what?” he snapped.

“No, sir” you whimpered at his tone.

“That's better, now get out of the car”

Everything between that and him ripping your dress of was a blur.

But the threat of the eight strikes was ever-present in your mind.

One might think eight strikes meant eight spanks. But Lando had learned early on in your relationship that spanking you was useless, you enjoyed the pain way too much for it to be a punishment.

No, eight strikes meant eight orgasms.

And up to now you had only ever managed up to six.

As the dress lay discarded on the floor, Lando noted your lack of underwear and growled.

He sat back on his heels, and admired you from above, nothing but awe in his eyes.

“So fucking beautiful. Shame you're such a needy brat.”

You whimpered and he got off you to get a couple of things from the bedside drawer.

A bottle of lube, a ribbon to tie your hands to the headboard with, and then he paused, looking at the other contents of the drawer, wondering which ones he was going to use tonight.

You and Lando had amassed quite a collection of toys in there.

He finally decided on a vibrating plug, a dildo and vibrating wand.

He was going to need to be creative if he was going to get you to eight tonight.

The first orgasm was easy, his mouth was enough to bring you to your peak in no time, you having been on edge ever since dinner, and he even let you thread your hands through his hair to ground yourself while he devoured you like a man starved.

You lay there panting as he got the ribbon and tied your hands to the headboard.

“And what do we say after an orgasm?”

“Thank you sir” you replied diligently.

“Good girl”

He wasted no time diving back in with his mouth, paying special attention to your oversensitive clit with his tongue, making you writhe in his hold when you suddenly felt him slide three fingers in.

His fingers were quite a bit larger than yours and the stretch was delicious and it didn't take you much time at all to get to your second orgasm.

You barely had time to recover from that one before he turned on the plug and slid it through your folds, carefully avoiding your clit as you squirmed.

He started pushing it in, bit by bit until it was nestled in the wet heat of your pulsing cunt.

It was just barely grazing your g-spot and you let out a frustrated huff, the stimulation not quite enough.

“If you think this is going to make me come then you're sorely mista- Ah!”

The slap echoed in the empty room. Your eyes widened as pain blossomed across your puffy lips.

A couple of seconds passed in silence and he slapped your cunt again, this time catching the plug and you jolted as it pressed against your g-spot for a split second.

“Brat”

Another slap, this time right on your clit and you yelped as your thighs tried to close of their own volition.

Lando spread your legs roughly and pressed them to your chest.

“Keep your legs open” his voice was threatening as he looked at you with fire in his eyes.

Another slap. You cried out as the pain made wetness pool out of you and Lando laughed darkly.

“Look at you practically gushing around the plug. You're enjoying this aren't you slut?”

You couldn't even respond as he slapped you again, and again, and at every slap you just got wetter and wetter until you could feel it dripping over your rim and down your crack.

Lando's thumb came to collect some of the wetness and sucked it into his mouth.

“So sweet for me”

He slapped you again and you keened, you were so close to coming again it was embarrassing. You shouldn't be getting off on this kind of pain but there you were, about to come from him slapping your most sensitive parts.

“Lando! I'm gonna come!” you cried out.

“Good, do it. You're going to have to if we want you to get to eight” he smirked evilly and you whimpered at the thought.

His thumb trailed downwards again and stopped right on your puckered hole, just slightly rubbing the wetness around it and it only took one last slap, and a slight breach from his thumb for you to come, wailing as he used the distraction to slide his thumb in completely.

He took the plug out and turned it off. But didn't put it down as his thumb thrusted in and out of you gently.

He added a small amount of lube before sliding another finger in, then two.

He pulled them out after he deemed you sufficiently stretched, you were still shaking from your previous orgasm, and he pushed the tip of the plug in. It had been a while since you'd had something so thick back there and you let out a breath as he slid another inch in.

One more inch and you were halfway there, pulsing around the silicone as your empty cunt throbbed.

The flared base took some doing but he finally pushed it in gently, the plug popping into place as you gasped at the feeling of being full, but not quite full enough and you whined at Lando.

He chuckled. “So fucking greedy, wanna turn over for me love?” he asked as he untied your wrists.

You did so, settling on your elbows as you spread your legs behind you, exposing the plug to Lando.

He gave it a quick tug just to make you keen before taking the dildo and lubing it up.

It wasn't anything special, certainly not as big as Lando, but it was enough.

He slapped it against your clit once to get your attention, and carefully pushed the tip in.

It wasn't enough and you wiggled your hips to get him to hurry up which just earned you a sharp slap on your left cheek in response.

Your giggle quickly turned into a moan as he thrusted the dildo in at an angle so it rammed into your g-spot.

Yeah this motherfucker knew what he was doing.

He grinded it into that spot repeatedly and your arms quickly gave out, making you face plant into the pillows.

He just laughed meanly as your muffled wails reached his ears and he carried on.

“So good, Lando fuck!”

His hand landed another sharp smack to you ass.

“That's not my name darling” he chided.

“Yes sir, sorry”

“Good girl”

He turned the plug back on and the vibrations made your eyes roll back into your skull and you drooled over the pillow as the pleasure overtook you. For the fourth time you came, this time feeling the burn of the pleasure starting to border on pain.

He turned the plug off and pulled it out gently, making sure not to hurt you and set it to the side for the time being.

The sight of your hole clenching around nothing made him growl and he grabbed your cheeks, spreading them and spitting right on your greedy hole.

You felt utterly boneless as the dildo was also removed, but before you could feel too empty it was shoved back into you, in your ass this time.

You reached a hand back for Lando to squeeze and he did.

“Colour?” he checked.

“Green. So fucking green” you rasped and he chuckled.

“Good, because we're only halfway done, baby”

He put a hand on your upper back and pushed you into the mattress as he got into position to push his cock into your weeping cunt.

He was quite a bit bigger than the dildo and you cried out at the stretch as he started a relentless pace with his hips, while gripping the base of the dildo to drag it in and out of you at the same pace.

Your body was useless as you lay there and took it, pleasure coming in waves and you got closer and closer in record time as Lando felt you tighten around him.

“God you're such a good girl when you can't speak.” He groaned, hips stuttering “Taking it so well, like you were made for it, fuck-”

The praise made your head swim and you felt your body shake with the pleasure of your fifth orgasm taking over you.

Lando slowed down, pulling out the dildo first, then his own cock and helped you turn around so that he could see you.

He grapped a pillow and put it under your hips to raise them up and he noticed your eyes were slightly unfocused.

“You okay babygirl?”

“yeee” you slurred and he chuckled.

He picked up the wand and turned it on, dragging it across your body, passing over your sensitive nipples, making you squirm, and all the way down to your puffy, neglected clit.

Your reaction was immediate as the vibrations sent sparks flying throughout your body, toes curling at the intense pleasure.

But it was nothing compared to the feeling of Lando's thick cock pushing back into your cunt and he angled his thrusts upwards to knock into your g-spot.

You were so out of it you didn't register the different kind of pressure building in your gut until it was too late.

The first stream took Lando by surprise and he felt himself let out a spurt of his own before hammering into you as hard as he could.

That, plus the intense vibration on your clit made you squirt all over him, leaving the two of your lower halves dripping as you cried in overstimulation and he pumped you full of him as shudders wracked his body.

“So good baby, good girl squirting all over yourself, god-”

You didn't respond, taking a bit longer to come down from this one than the others.

“Good to carry on?”

You replied with a noise that was somewhere between a wail and a groan that he knew well enough by now basically meant ‘yep all good’.

He quickly took another smaller vibrating plug out of the drawer (yeah, you had a collection) and slipped it into you, making sure you were nice and plugged full of his cum. He switched it on and angled it upwards into your g-spot and tears streamed down your cheeks at the overwhelming mix of pleasure and pain coursing through you.

He then took the wand and circled it over your clit.

You yelled and he leaned over you to wrap a hand around your throat, which made your eyes roll back into your head and and let out a high pitched whine.

“So good for me baby, you look so fucking sexy, all full of my cum. I love you so much, you're nearly there. You can do one more for me can't you?”

Just as your orgasm was about to crash over you you cried out and your hips bucked up.

“Yes daddyyy-”

Lando’s dick twitched as he watched you fall apart under him, knowing you only called him daddy when you were deep under and numb with pleasure.

He turned the plug off, deciding to leave it in until he could get you in the shower.

He turned off the wand and put it to one side, he could clean everything once the sheets were changed and you were sound asleep.

That was only seven, but it was already a record and he didn't want to push you and accidentally hurt you.

He lay down next to you and his fingers traced patterns over your skin, mouth planting sweet kisses all over your face as you came back to him, the fog slowly clearing from your mind.

Once you were present enough, he kissed you deeply and held you close.

“You did so good for me darling, so fucking good. I'm so proud of you”

You all but purred as you cuddled into his embrace, starting to feel all the sticky lube and juices that you were both covered in.

You giggled. “We need to shower but I don't think my legs are working”

“In that case” Lande kissed you again “why don't I run us a bath?”

“Sounds good”

He got to work, starting off the bath, then put all the toys in the bathroom sink and started cleaning them while the tub slowly filled up.

Once it was full, he carried you to the bath, sitting you up so that he could slide in behind you and lean you back onto his chest.

His hands wandered over you as you soaked in the hot water, and once your mind was cleared completely, you turned your head to kiss him properly and run your hands through his hair, tugging lightly on the strands causing him to moan into the kiss.

You could feel him get hard behind you and you giggled.

“How many did I do?”

“Seven, baby. New record” he smiled at you and leaned back in for a kiss but you stopped him.

“I though we were doing eight?”

“Yeah, but the seventh took everything out of you and I didn't want to push you any harder”

Affection bloomed in your chest as his hands carried on roaming your skin.

“I love you. But I really was a brat earlier, I think I can go one more”

You glanced at the toys on the side of the sink and Lando followed your gaze.

“What are you fancying, love?”

You reached over and grabbed the wand, that happened to be waterproof, then settled on Lando's lap with your back to his chest.

“I want you inside me for a start” you removed the plug that was still inside you and sank down onto him quickly, making you both groan into each other’s mouths as you twisted around again to kiss lazily.

You turned the wand on and put it under the water, right on your clit.

It was like heaven, the hot water around you soothing, yet making the sensations so much more intense and you moved in sync with Lando, rolling your hips as he thrusted gently in and out of you.

He was so on edge he came before you, filling you up again and the feeling of him throbbing inside you pushed you over the edge and you squealed as your body slumped back against him.

You couldn't move so he took the wand and turned it off, throwing it back in the sink before wrapping his arms around you and kissing up and down your neck and shoulders.

“There you go” you said sleepily “eight strikes” you turned around in his arms, and you both dissolved into giggles and kissed sloppily, content in each other’s arms.

Next time, you would definitely manage to get nine strikes

#my thots #lando thots #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #f1 #formula 1 #ask #request

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winterzsurprise · 1 year

Text

Ride me? || Miguel O'hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara (Spider-Man 2099) x F!reader

Tags: Overstimulation, rough sex, choking, squirting, vaginal fingering, big dick Miguel, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), fang kink if you squint.

Words: 1.8k

Summary: Just when you thought he's exhausted enough from chasing Miles Morales and had given you the chance to actually ride him, Miguel has other plans.

This man evokes something so feral in me that I forgot I was suffering through the worst writer's block. He got me giggling and twirling my hair yesterday at the cinema wtf. I used my very limited Mexican Spanish knowledge from watching streamers flirting in a block game for this.

cariño - honey || mi vida - my life || mi amor - my love || guapito - handsome

Miguel isn't the type to let someone control the pace, even if he did, his hands grounded on your waist would soon guide your hips into a rhythm he prefers, hard and fast.

You've been hearing the ruckus down the spider webs, something about another version rebelling against the usual stories of every Spider-Man in the multiverse to save his dad. Knowing that your husband sits at the top as their leader, you expected him to disappear for a long period of time.

Not that you mind of course, he's had plenty of times he charges in to handle an anomaly himself.

You do have to give some kudos to the kid for trying to change reality though. After Miguel's story, nobody in the headquarters, even you, dared to defy the fates laid upon every Spider-Man.

It's been three days since he left and honestly, you didn't expect him to arrive yet. A person deterring from the fates of every Spider-Man would be hard to handle, you couldn't even imagine how difficult it'd be.

So when the doors to your apartment flew open and came to him, practically drooping from exhaustion, you were surprised.

He came earlier than expected.

"How'd the chase go?"

"I don't want to talk about it. Come here."

Drying your hands off on the towel hanging from the wall counter, you made your way to the man laid spread and heaving on the couch. His head tipped back with his usually neatly gelled hair now haggard and messy, he looked up when he sensed your presence and immediately pulled you onto his lap.

You laughed. "Don't fall asleep here, I don't want to carry your heavy ass."

His lips tugged into a weak smile, his pointy canines briefly appearing.

"Spider-Man is supposed to help the weak, are you really ignoring a civilian in need?"

You didn't get what he meant until he pulled your hips closer, dragging your core over the tent on his pants.

You hit his arm. "Go to sleep, you must've been really tired after chasing that kid around."

"Then ride me."

You paused before narrowing your eyes at him. He's baiting you with the very thing you've wanted to do since the beginning. But the dark cloud of lust in his eyes somehow convinced you of his genuineness.

His talons dug onto your flesh, hard enough to take control of your hips to grind on top of his dick sensually while keeping eye contact with yours. You couldn't ignore the pleasure and jolts of heat electrifying and burning your nerve endings alight at every drag of your heat over his.

"I want to feel you baby, I miss you so much."

Miguel pushes you down on his hardness and you moan, the feeling of his girth finding home between your legs shot electric pleasure down your spine.

"You are a convincing man."

"And you love it."

You lunged for a kiss and instantly, one of his hands threaded itself onto the back of your head, locking you in place as your lips danced against each other in a fierce battle. The raw hunger after being starved for a week now surfacing and consuming you both, mind and body.

His other hand guided your hips up and down his clothed dick, his deep groans and growl lit fireworks in you, igniting your determination to coax more of them out of his lips.

"Get rid of the pants or I'll rip it off of you."

"Rip it then."

He didn't need to hear you twice.

In one quick motion, he tore your sweatpants into two before doing the same thing to your panties and throwing them somewhere in the room. He groaned as his head fell onto the crook of your neck, hands crawling up to cup your breasts before your top and bra suffered the same fate as your other clothing.

"The pants, only the pants! I loved that bra!"

"I'll buy you something better, from another universe even." He responded, almost breathless as your scent invaded every speck of his senses. Miguel groaned. "Fuck, I miss this scent of yours baby."

"I don't care, get rid of the suit."

His attire dissolved into thin air and retracted back to god-knows-where, revealing his ruffled shirt and grey sweatpants that did nothing but proclaim his clear desire for you.

"Let me prep you real good, huh?"

Retracting his talons, two of his fingers delved into your heat, immediately drenching itself with your arousal and he groaned.

"So wet for me, mi amor."

"Only for you, guapito."

Two of his digits rolled your clit sensually and with the dexterity of an experienced man, urging more of your arousal to coat his fingers further. Once he was satisfied with the amount of fluid now dripping into his pants, he wandered lower and lower until he plunged his index in, curling it up so deliciously you moaned and grinded your hips onto the slow plunge of his hand.

His eyes watched your heat like a ravenous man holding back, the feral look on his face only pulled you closer to the edge.

And it's only a finger in.

"So tight, mi vida. You treat me so well."

He added two fingers in and you screamed, his pace now rapidly gaining speed. Your eyes rolled back as your hips thrashed and clumsily followed his thrusts, there was nothing else that mattered more than coming for your darling in that moment.

Miguel groaned, watching your face twist into the most sinful display of pleasure he has ever seen. The pride and smugness from knowing it was all because of him made him smile.

Only he could see you in such a state and no one else.

You clenched around his digits, tempting him to finally take the dive. Although his fingers coaxed pleasure out of you with no problem, you missed the feeling of his dick carving your insides, stretching you thin and reminding your cunt who it belongs to.

But Miguel ignored the bait and instead hastened up while curling up to push on your g-spot. You almost blacked out from the euphoria he feeds you, a coil in your stomach tightened and you moaned.

"I'm cl-close… Fuck!"

"Give it to me baby, I want it all."

It didn't last long until the coil exploded and your arousal squirts out of your cunt to drench Miguel's shirt, whose gaze turned a shade darker at the scene when you peered down to meet his gaze.

A tense atmosphere rose from his mere gaze and goosebumps prickled your skin. Your heartbeat jumped through the roofs as you stared back at his dark eyes, he triggered your spidey sense.

And for some sick reason, it only ignited the simmering arousal in the pits of your abdomen.

"Fuck the ride, you're not getting up until I say so, cariño."

You barely sensed him flipping you both, with you now seated and spread on the sofa while he stood in front of you, hastily removing his remaining clothing as if it angered him.

It didn't take long until his hand cautiously wrapped around your neck and his other, pinning your hips as he plunged himself deep into your cunt. You screamed as he pushed more of him, inch by inch. He stretched you out to the point of no return, the burn of his cock carving you open once more made you light-headed.

And he loves nothing more but seeing the cock-drunk look on your face.

Miguel grinned, his fangs protruding so attractively. "God, I love how fucked you look for me, cariño. Give me more."

He pulls and plunged himself back in, shooting hot white pleasure in your body. Miguel didn't wait long before his usual hard and rough pace started. The hand around your throat tightened and your mind turned woozy from the lack of oxygen, his thrust taking your breath away only evoking the feeling of nirvana within you.

He drove in you hard and quick enough you can distantly hear the couch legs wincing as it gets pushed back with every plunge of his dick.

"Fuck…!"

"That's right darling, I'm fucking my sweet cariño open and wide for me."

The electric shocks the head of his cock briefly grazing the head of your uterus sent your legs flailing on his sides. Growing bothered by them, he halts to rest them on his wide shoulders and wraps his arm around your thigh before entering somehow deeper into you.

Your hands found his meaty thigh and dug itself onto it and it encouraged him to go even faster, pushing you closer to the edge and you swore you could see the pearly gates of the heavens.

"I'm co-coming…! Miguel!"

"Give it to me baby, you know how much I love seeing you convulse so helplessly around me."

The hand on your throat left to find purchase on your clit, rubbing you as fast his cock plunges into you.

With a scream, you came.

Your legs trembled violently on his shoulder as more of your arousal spurts out of your heat, white hot pleasure burned and stirred every nerve ending awake as your eyes rolled back.

But this doesn't seem to be enough for Miguel who only took a break to see your thighs convulse before continuing his thrusts.

You hit his thighs as he kickstarted another orgasm now bubbling in the pit of your stomach but he paid no heed.

Not that you minded of course, if anything, it only pleases the sick bastard in your head, wishing to be used and fucked so well by your husband like it's your sole purpose.

"I'm so close, baby. Can you give me another one? Surely you can, right?"

His fingers rubbed your clit to the point of pain yet it somehow enhanced the pleasure growing larger in your chest and you screamed. Miguel bent down to rest his sweaty forehead on your shoulder, in the clouded state you were in, you could make out the sharp points of his canines pushing down your skin.

The threat of his bite shot jolts down to your heavily beaten cunt, once again tightening its coil. The frequent groans and low growls escaping his lips alone told you he's near to climax.

And with that, he's dragging you down with him.

"Please please please, give it to me…!"

"Yes, cariño. Anything, Anything for you."

With a couple of thrust, scorching hot explodes inside of you and Miguel slows down, almost into a halt as he rides down his high. The face of pure unadulterated ecstasy painting his face, along with his fingers, you came with another shout.

When he's calmer, he lets his sweaty body fall into your arms before reaching around to do the same.

As your breathing returns to normal and the fog in your head clears, Miguel places a gentle kiss on your temple and cheeks.

"I love you so much, cariño."

"I love you more, guapito."

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara imagine #spider-man: into the spiderverse fics #spider man: across the spider verse fics #spider-man fics #spider-man smut #miguel o'hara x reader one shot #miguel o'hara one shot

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calumfmu · 3 months

Text

tell me its a bit

"Steve, can I ask you something? What are we doing?"

He pulled away fully to look at you, brows knitted together in confusion as his eyes went back and forth between your eyes and mouth. "Uhh.. sex?"

He loved the cat and mouse game you had once started, not choosing to end it despite him being yours and you being his, despite titles given.

or; the extended version of Baby, No Attachment: Steve continues to reveal his true self to you.

cw: 18+, mdni, soft!Stevie, smut, teasing, spanking (brief), fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, wrap it up kids, cream pie, hair pulling, slight choking kink if you squint, yada yada yaddaaaa (2.8k+ words)

The Steve you had become so accustomed to had been different in the last few weeks since that car ride. Treating you with grace and kindness, he tended to your needs no matter what they were. It had taken some time getting used to, always feeling like he was lying about something despite giving you no reason to believe so. His act had shaped up, him treating you like the princess he had once called you, not hesitating to leap whenever you said jump.

He loved the cat and mouse game you had once started, not choosing to end it despite him being yours and you being his, despite titles given. Still sneaking into your bedroom window at all hours of the day, throwing rocks at the glass, throwing himself at you in the back of his BMW whenever he had the chance, no matter the welcoming arms your mom held for him (she was still his favorite). It made you feel like a young preteen again, the excitement of this romance pulling at your heartstrings in every possible good way there was.

The window was open, blowing in cold air as late winter made its final claim in Hawkins. Bedroom curtains were bunched up at the windowsill, caught up from where he had fallen through, shoes kicked off at the bottom. His jacket was thrown somewhere on the floor, half draped over the radio that softly played George Michael in the background. He had insisted on turning it on, whispering ‘We’re gonna get caught’ despite you urging ‘My mom loves you, shut up’. It didn’t stop him, silent moans filling the air as he touched you, your bodies so familiar with one another.

You were pressed into the mattress, both mouths slotted together as one of his hands snaked at your chest, slowly unbuttoning your top as he half-laid on you. His bulge ground into your thigh, small gasps escaping his mouth as you tugged at his hair.

Pulling away slightly, you mumbled into his mouth, “Steve, can—can I ask you something?”

He barely nodded, moving his weight over you to push you further into the bed. The hand at your chest moved to caress your hip, fingers splayed wide across the skin.

“What are we doing?”

He pulled away fully to look at you, brows knitted together in confusion as his eyes went back and forth between your eyes and mouth.

“Uhh… sex?” He laughed, leaning into you to return to his previous position. You stopped him with a touch to his chest. He looked even more confused than he did previously, shaking his head at you.

“No, Steve,” you sighed, slightly rolling your eyes at his comment. One thing you learned about him was that the boy loved playing dumb, especially when it came to actually discussing important things. “Like what are we?”

Realization crossed his face as his eyebrows shot up, an ‘O’ formed between his lips. The look went away as quickly as it appeared, a smirk given to you.

“You’re my girl, right?” He returned his mouth to yours, moving his hand lower to run across your inner thigh. Frustrated, you pushed him completely off of you, noticing the way he just looked so shocked at your fast movement.

He remained silent as you sat up, turning your body to look at him as he was laid on the bed, stuck in the position that he fell in. His hair tussled over his face, eyebrows raised and hands slightly up as he seemed to be awaiting your next move.

“Are you serious?” Your voice was raised, anger between your eyes as you looked down at him. He seemed small in the moment, a red blush crossing his cheeks.

“Do you not want to be?”

“No, Ste—” you cut yourself off with a sigh as you pinched your nose bridge, pulling your knees to your chest. You searched for the patience to deal with him, not understanding why he didn’t get it. “Steve. That’s not what I mean.”

“Well… what do you mean? I thought we were, like, together,” he asked, voice small compared to yours as he slowly sat up. He raised to lean on one hand, the other being placed on your knee, rubbing the skin.

You shot your eyes open to look at him, a loud cackle thrown at him that caused his face to fall. You felt bad to laugh at him, realizing that this ‘King Steve’ who had fallen from grace had so much to learn about girls, despite revolving his life around them.

“Together?” He pulled away from you, moving to sit at the end of the bed with his back turned to you. You saw him lean over on his knees, heard him clear his throat in discomfort. “Babe…”

He ignored the nickname as you moved to perch behind him, pulling him so his back was pressed to your chest, your head resting at his shoulder. Wrapping your arms around him, you felt him relax into the embrace, head tilting onto yours. With your legs on opposite sides of his hips, you leaned into him, the size difference between the two of you causing you to melt.

“Babe… we’re not together because… you never asked me,” you whispered, pressing kisses to his cheek in the pauses of your words. His head turned to look at you, shock the only emotion you could decipher.

“I never asked you?”

“No, dummy,” you giggled, pressing kisses to his cheek and jawline interchangeably. He fucking giggled at the touches of your lips on his skin, tilted his head to try to ‘avoid�� them, yet he made no other effort to move—you knew he loved it.

“Well, do you want to be my girl th—my girlfriend then?” He asked you, looking at you through long lashes, blinking slow as he became shy. You pressed your lips together, shaking your head, laughing as his mouth dropped open at you.

“No?” His voice raised a pitch, suddenly moving so you fell into his arms with a loud laugh. Steve pressed kisses to your nose this time, nuzzling his face into yours as he held you.

“That’s not going to cut it, Harrington.” His last name fell from your lips in a faux-mock, you haven’t muttered his last name since the two of you made amends, if you wanted to call it that—really it actually was just the two of you fucking for the first time in the back of his car. It felt foreign to you, cheesy nicknames shared behind closed doors and whiny drawls of each other's names replacing it.

He paused for a moment, face inches away from your own as he studied you. Drawing your eyes over his features, you took note of the moles dotting his face, constellations drawn in the beauty marks that you loved to trace your fingers over. Steve Harrington was a beauty, a wonder that you felt so grateful to have between your fingertips. Words couldn’t describe the feelings you had bubbling in your chest for him, he was everything and more you had thought him to be.

His breath hit your face with a flutter of your eyes closed, enjoying the bliss of being in his arms.

“You’re going to make me work for it, princess?” The nickname he used to call you had you shivering, arousal pooling between your thighs. His voice dropped an octave, a chill through your spine at the lowness.

“Mhmm,” you mumbled, digging your teeth into your bottom lip as he leaned into you, pressing a kiss to your mouth.

“I can do that,” he whispered back, deepening the kiss as he maneuvered the two of you to the previous position you held, you on your back, legs sprawled with him in between. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling at it as he ground down into you.

“What else are you going to make me work for?”

One of his hands trailed down the length of your abdomen, fingertips dancing over your stomach before settling at your groin. Your legs widened without a second thought, hips arching onto the touch. He began to work a small circle over your clothed clit, the material dampening as your wetness deepened.

“Ah—” your voice cut off as you tried to respond to him, his fingers working magic as you began to fall apart.

“Not so much to say now, yeah?” He laughed at you, mouthing at your neck as a breathy sigh escaped you. As much as you hated to admit it, you loved this side of him, the cockiness that once was returning to your lover boy, dominating the situation as he made you melt.

“Shut it, Harrington.”

The only words you were able to mutter before he took over, filling up your senses with his body against yours. He was overwhelming, crowding your brain with thoughts of him, thoughts of his touch, his everything. His fingers began to creep lower, pushing your panties to the side as he ran a finger over your slit.

He leaned up to nip at your ear, teeth digging at the lobe of skin, your neck craning to the side as you exhaled in pleasure.

"Not quite sure I like that name anymore," he whispered against your skin, tongue darting out to lick at the skin beneath your ear. He exhaled against you, the coolness of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

"You-"

You couldn't speak as he began to tease you, finger inching into you slightly, just for him to remove it, reaching up to toy with your clit ever-so-slightly.

"I?" He dragged out the letter, leaning back to smirk down at you as he questioned what you were going to say. Irritation crossed your features as you took him in between hooded eyes, lids fluttering shut as he took his teasing to a new level.

His hand left your underwear, grasping your hand between his as he grinded against you. His clothed crotch rubbed between your legs, an exasperated sigh leaving you.

"Steve."

Your tone was firm this time, chastising him as he pushed your leg up with his own. Your free hand reached down to grab at the top of his jeans, fingertips dancing over the button there.

"Yes, princess?" His breath grew a little more shallow, his head dipping to watch your fingers slowly unbutton his jeans, the zip sliding down audibly in the room. His bulge poked out of his jeans, boxers tenting towards you.

"Cut the act."

With a nod, it was over—his mouth was pressed into yours, and his hands were pushing down his jeans, boxers following suit. His cock sprang free of its restraint, beat red and dripping with arousal. In the heat of the moment, you were flipped over, ass sticking straight into the air with your underwear pulled down mid thigh.

It was just enough freedom of the two of your sexes to make ends meet, the head of his cock nudging between your legs, pressing at your entrance. He had his fingers tangled in your hair, yanking your head back as he entered you in a swift motion, pressing to the hilt.

The two of you groaned in unison, hips flush to one another with Steve taking a break to breath, his head pushed towards the ceiling.

"Fuck, you're so—"

He cut himself off, a hard smack filling the air as his hand made contact with the plump skin of your ass. You pushed your hips back at the assault to your ass, groaning as he pressed even deeper.

"You're going to fucking kill me, princess."

He began to thrust into you, hips rutting into your own. It was quick, thrusts relentless and brutal as he fucked into you. Your hands tried gripping at the sheets around you, failing as the movements had you faltering, body rocking in unison with his own.

His name left your mouth in high pitched whines, eyes fluttering shut with the pleasure that overcame your senses.

"Ste-Steve, fuc-"

You could barely get a word out as he continued rutting into you, his hand gripping your hair tightly, the other running over the skin of your back, reaching down to rub at your lower back, rearing back to smack down into your cheek. The loud sounds of your sex and the smacking of his hand filled the room, becoming louder with each thrust.

You tried shushing him, worried that the sounds would be able to be heard from downstairs. The last thing you needed was your mom coming up the stairs, opening the door to find her sweet daughter in this compromising position.

He leaned over you, pressing your hips into the mattress as he continued fucking into you, grinding his hips in small motions. The atmosphere of the room changed, love filling the air as his hand left your hair, reaching around and down under to grip at your neck. Your neck craned back as he pulled you into him, back to chest.

Steve's breath was hot in your ear, small grunts leaving him.

"Is this what you wanted?" He asked, tone of his voice gruff with arousal.

You attempted to nod, eyes squeezing shut and sweat prickling at your hairline from the heat of the moment. He reached down underneath you to rub at your clit, the bundle of nerves growing more sensitive as the two of you were brought closer to completion.

"Making me work for it—you're such a tease, princess."

The nickname had you whimpering, memories of your prior relationship flooding back. That first night spent together filling your mind, overcoming the small amount of senses that you had left.

A high pitched uhh left you, breath caught in your throat as his grip tightened, hips grinding down into you even further. He couldn't get any deeper, reaching that spot inside of you that was only reserved for him.

"'S not enough, Harrington."

You were insistent on teasing him, eyebrows knitted together, eyes squeezed shut. He quickened his pace, pulling out almost completely just to thrust back into you.

His fingers at your clit sped up, he sensed how close you were solely on how your body tensed up.

"Come on, princess. I know y—"

His hand covered your mouth as you came, drowning out the loud whine that escaped you. He knew your body so well, knew exactly when to stop torturing your clit, when to slow his thrusts so you wouldn't become overwhelmed. Steve's own pleasurable end reached him, a low groan suppressed by pressing his face between your shoulder blades as he came deep inside you.

"Ah, fuck, princess, I lov-"

He cut himself off, another moan escaping him as he bottomed out before pulling out, collapsing on the bed next to you. You took a few moments in silence, catching your breath before turning to face him, blinking slow as you took him in.

Fingers reaching to you, he pulled you closer to him, pulling up the blanket that was pushed to your feet in the same motion. It was so domestic, this moment, your favorite side of Steve making an appearance that was slowly becoming the main event of your relationship.

He lay beside you, leaning on one elbow and hip, his fingers running over the expanse of your skin. You were starstruck in his beauty, the way his hair fell over his eyes, the slight glimmer of sweat sticking to his skin, moles dotting his body even in places the sun couldn't reach. And he was all yours, even if he was being stubborn, being Steve about it.

"You know I loved you the entire time?" He suddenly said, low in tone as he stared you down. Eyes leaving his body, you looked into his deep brown, shock evident on your face.

"I-you what?"

It was the first time these words left his mouth. You knew how you felt, but it was shocking to hear it from him.

"Since the day I saw you, I loved you. Love you," he confirmed, finger running up his body to run against your breastbone. He hovered over your heart, mimicking the shape of one over the skin.

"So... you were being an asshole just for fun?" You teased, turning on your side to lean into his space. Being in his proximity brought you a comfort that should have scared you, but definitely didn't.

He smirked at you, wiggling his eyebrows as he recalled the memories of your early relationship.

"How else was I supposed to make you fall for me?"

Your mouth dropped open in faux shock, your hand reaching up to slap at his chest. A guffaw left him as he grimaced at the red mark forming.

Rubbing at the spot, he whined your name. "Well it worked, didn't it?"

You rolled your eyes playfully, pretending to turn up your face at him. Turning on your side away from him, you closed your eyes, ushering sleep.

"You're such an asshole, Harrington."

You felt his arm snake around you, pulling you into his chest, both of your naked bodies pressed against each other. Instantly, you melted in his arms, your own hand coming up to grip at him.

"I love you too, princess."

Ah jeez, here it is. I love this pairing so much, I never want to part ways with them. part three.

Masterlist. <3

#my writing #Steve Harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington x you #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington smut #smut #ahhhh #asshole!steve #you guys know how I feel about him #I love him #baby no attachment!uni

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purplecoffee13 · 3 months

Text

The Silent Type*

Summary: “Harry, the quiet guy in the office, has silently admired you during your time working for the firm. Now that your work there is done, Harry finds that he can’t let you go just yet…”

Wc: 5k

Tropes: colleagues (ceorry/nerdrry)

Warnings: SMUT, overstimulation, daddy kink, switch sub/dom dynamics, oral, choking

A/N: SUP Y’ALL!!!! God I have just been waiting to be able to write again! I still have some exams coming up next week, but I spent all evening writing this one shot because I have been dying to get back into it😋 This is my first time writing a more subrry tinted fic, so I hope you enjoy it!

General Masterlist

if you want to support me more than liking or sharing, you can consider buying me a coffee!

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Harry has never been one to talk much.

It is one of the reasons why he chose the career of software developing. Most of it, he could do on his own.

It wasn't so much that Harry hated people, he just preferred his own company. More people tend to complicate things, and Harry is a more logical guy.

That was until he met you.

About three months ago, the company for which Harry worked had started their expansion, and he was to lead the people transferred to that section of the firm. With the expansion also came new employees, and that’s where you came in.

You had been temporarily hired by the company to weed out applicants, and assist the current HR manager to help with the job interviews.

Harry still remembers that first day when you walked into the office, all nervous and fidgety. He had spotted you through the glass walls of his office, and couldn't physically tear his eyes off of you.

It wasn't until your third day helping in the office, that you actually met Harry. You had no idea what to think of him. Well, besides the obvious, of course. He was ridiculously handsome, and from the way he was staring at you, you figured that maybe he was thinking something like that about you too.

But he didn't talk.

Your first time meeting consisted of nothing but a gruff 'nice to meet you' from Harry's side, and no input in the rest of the conversation whatsoever. It was only a couple days later, when you asked the HR manager about it, that you found out that's just how he was, that he didn't really talk to anyone. From that moment on, there had been a surge of motivation to let him make you the one exception.

Harry was just fascinated by you, and he had no idea why. You were a ball of energy, talking so fast you'd think someone had clicked on your 'sped up' button, and you were chaotic, all over the place. The amount of times he watched you bump into people was impossible to keep count of.

Then, one day, you bumped into him. It should have angered him, the spilt coffee on his pants. But he had an extra suit, and you looked so worried, he didn't want to make you feel worse. You still felt bad, though, so you decided to make it up to him, and started getting him coffee every morning.

By the end of the first week, he looked you in the eyes when he thanked you. By the end of the fourth, he'd ask you how you are and recall things you'd told him. By the end of sixth, he told you things about his life, and by the end of the tenth week, you were having longer conversations with him.

It was difficult to keep up the small talk with him in the beginning. You soon found out that his lone wolf attitude may had something to do with his awkwardness. You thought, perhaps people weren't willing to work through that, and eventually he just stopped trying.

Such a prospect made you sad, and it only motivated you more to get to know him better. Of course, the longing glances, and standing unnecessarily close to each other with his knuckles barely touching your arm, those things helped too.

There was an undeniable tension between the two of you that you found incredibly difficult to decipher. The way he'd let you catch him looking at you gave it away quite clearly, but the lack of any real initiative confused you.

Had you read it all wrong? Did he even think there was something there too?

Unfortunately, there was no way to find out, as your assignment at the company was coming to an end. Today had been your last day, and tonight is a launch party to officially celebrate the expansion of the company.

You were a little sad to leave the company, especially since you really liked the people working there. It is why you are most excited for tonight.

Wearing a long yellow dress—it is your favorite color—you stride into the building. You are mesmerized by all the balloons and how pretty everyone looks. Wearing expensive suits or classy dresses. You immediately realize you might be a bit too happily dressed; everyone is wearing darker colors.

It does make it easy for everyone to spot you, though. By the time you've gotten your drink, five people have already walked up to you. About half an hour into the party, the CEO of the company takes the stage to give a small speech.

"I would like to thank everyone who has participated in making this expansion go as smoothly as it did. Your work does not go unnoticed." He says through the microphone. Everyone claps for a few seconds, and the man waits to go on until it is quiet again.

"Now, I have a special announcement to make. I have wanted to make this expansion happen since I began working for this company in 1988. Now that I finally have, I feel that my job at this firm is done. And so, I have decided to retire from my position as CEO."

Your eyes widen at the speech; you had no idea this was even a thing. By the sound of the gasps and murmurs traveling through the room, you deduce that the news is unexpected for the rest of the company as well.

"It is also with great pride that I present the new CEO of our company, chosen after careful consideration. If mr. Harry Styles could please join me on stage."

Your mouth falls open at the mention of Harry's name, and you are certain you will never be able to close it again when you see him walking onto the stage. He wears a black suit, perfectly tailored to his body, and the sight of him has you concerned that you may be drooling.

The bald man hands the microphone to Harry, who does not look very pleased to be on stage; it almost seems like he is regretting his decisions. Until his eyes meet yours, that is when you see him let out a breath.

"Thank you, Mr. Johnson." He says, breaking eye contact to look at his former boss.

Right, that was his name, Johnson.

"I look forward to leading this company into more successes, and I promise that I will put my heart and soul into it. I have worked at this firm ever since I graduated college and they offered me a job during my internship, and it is safe to say that I have not regretted that decision a day of my life. I have always been loyal to this company, and I will remain loyal to you. Thank you."

You are perplexed. Why did he never tell you about this? You are very happy for him, but you do find it weird. It also makes you doubt again. Did whatever you had been building up the last months not mean as much to Harry as it did to you?

Well, it doesn't really matter, you're gone after tonight anyway.

Once the shock of the news has calmed down a bit, the party resumes as normal. Most people visit Harry one by one to congratulate him on the position, but you steer clear from him. It is no use, after tonight you will probably never see him again anyway.

Time passes, and you think you're ready to go home. There was a file in the office you forgot to sign earlier today, so you head up to do that first. The office is entirely dark when you walk out of the elevator. It's kind of eerie, so you are quick to turn on the lights.

It takes you a few minutes to find the file, since the receptionist placed it on someone else's desk. You find it on your colleague's desk, and walk over to the receptionist desk to sign it. Laying it on the keyboard of her computer, you pray that she won't displace it again, and make your way back to the elevators.

A loud shriek escapes you when Harry suddenly walks around the corner. He covers his ears at the high pitched sound, shocked by how much he scared you. With your hand on your chest you try and steady your breathing.

"Jesus, you scared the crap out of me."

"Sorry, didn't mean to." He says, a bit of worry in his tone. You look up at him.

"What are you even doing up here?"

"I was looking for you." He shrugs.

"Why?" Your eyebrows furrow, that same old tension in your stomach settling like it does every time Harry looks at you for longer than two seconds.

"You've been avoiding me." He answers casually, and you feel your heart drop. You didn't think he'd catch onto it.

"Congratulations by the way, for being the CEO. That was definitely a surprise." There is a bitterness in your tone. It is Harry's turn to frown. He hears the condescension, but his mind can't seem to come to a conclusion. Why are you angry? It's so hard to tell.

This is why he doesn't do people.

"You're mad that I am CEO?" He guesses, and your mouth falls open, much like it did when Harry's new position got announced.

"What?! Of course not! I'm very happy for you." You sputter out. The last thing you'd want him to think is that you don't want him to be happy or satisfied or successful.

"But you're still avoiding me." He repeats slowly. "You know, I didn't tell you about it because no one was supposed to know. I had to sign for it and everything. It's nothing personal."

The painful grip that his potential distrust in you had on your heart releases at the sound of his words. You could have known that it was due to something like that, you work in HR after all. That fact alone makes you realize how invested you unknowingly had become in Harry.

"I...I figured." You give him a weak smile. Harry's eyes search for yours, holding onto your gaze once he has found it. You stay like that, staring at each other for a while until you break the silence.

"I'm heading home. I don't think I'll see you again, so good luck. I'm sure you'll do wonderfully."

With much difficulty, you manage to look away from Harry and walk past him. At least, you try to, because halfway through, Harry's hand grabs your arm. You stop in your tracks, looking back at the man who stopped you. The man who has been sending you mixed signals for the past few months.

"D– do you want to join me in my office?"

You refrain from the shiver that threatens to run down your entire body, and nod. Harry's hand slides down your arm to your hand, and he intertwines his fingers with yours before he leads you to the glass doors that belong to him. On your way there, he flicks off the lights, leaving the two of you in the dark.

The city lights light up the otherwise pitch dark office that belongs to Harry, for now. He will be moved to the CEO's office when he starts his new position.

You don't say anything as Harry closes the door, or as he walks to the closet and pulls out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. You wait in anticipation of what he's going to do.

But then he sits down. He just sits down on his chair.

You stand there, staring at him, utterly confused about this man and his intentions with you, while he obliviously pours the whiskey into the glasses. In that moment, there is a switch inside of you, one that says: fuck it. This is your last day, you need a way to release this pent up tension, and you probably won't see him ever again after this. What have you got to lose? Nothing.

You walk over to the desk and sit down on it, extremely close to Harry. The split of your dress shows your bare, freshly shaved leg, and he seems to notice. His eyes pull to your legs like magnets, and he has to force himself to look you in the eyes as he hands you the glass of whiskey.

You try your best not to smirk at the effectiveness of your plan, focusing on your next move instead. Straight for the kill.

"So, why am I here, Harry?" You ask nonchalantly, taking a sip of your whiskey. It tastes quite strong, and it takes you a lot of effort not to have an expressive reaction to it.

"What?" He asks, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

"Why'd you take me here?" You ask again, setting down your glass at the table before moving to stand in front of him. "To admire the view?"

Harry looks out the window, but his head shoots back to you when he notices you're sinking onto your knees in front of him. He thinks he may have forgotten to breathe as he observes the lustful look in your eyes. His eyes travel down to your tits, even more visible from this angle.

"Because I've admired it every day for the past three months." You continue. Harry swallows, frozen by the overload of his brain and the sensitivity of the growing constraint in these pants. "Why don't you take your pants off for me? Just enough to give me your cock. I like you in this suit."

Harry doesn't let another second fly by before he is unbuckling his pants, sliding it down just enough for you to have access to his cock and his balls. Your mouth waters at the size and girth of it, your cunt getting wetter with every passing moment.

You shimmy forward, leaning over his cock and grabbing it with your hand. Harry sighs at the minimal contact, making you feel even more powerful. Looking up at him through your lashes, you ask him one more question.

"You'll hold my hair, won't you?"

With that, you take Harry in your mouth as far as you can, before pulling away from him. A gasp leaves his mouth, and his eyes fall shut as you pump him with your hand while your mouth kisses and sucks on the head of his cock. You begin licking and kissing down his cock, while your hand softly feels up his balls.

Harry feels like he is in heaven already, and he forgets everything around him. It is only when you completely remove yourself from him that he opens his eyes again, and he sees. Catching on quickly, he leans forward and gathers your hair, twisting it around his palm.

Satisfied with Harry's obedience, your mouth attaches itself to his cock again. You take him slowly, teasingly, and move your head up and down. With every movement, you take him an inch deeper.

"Oh, f–fuck!" He groans out when you gag on him because you took yourself too far too fast. You steady your breathing, which is a bit more complicated as you can only breathe out your nose. You resume sucking him off for a bit longer, bobbing your head down a bit faster. The small sounds that leaves Harry's lips, along with his scrunched up face, gives you enough indication that he is approaching his climax.

So you remove your mouth from his cock.

He lets out a whine at the loss of contact. If your panties weren't wet before, they certainly are now. You smile at the state of him; desperate and needy for you. The fact that you've managed to make him fall apart like this makes you incredibly horny.

"I want to take all of you in my mouth, daddy." You tell him, looking up at him with your big eyes. "You'll have to help me."

You went out on a bit of a limb when you decided to call him daddy, but he doesn't seem to mind at all. In fact, Harry's eyes light up and his jaw slacks at the mention of the pet name.

"Shit– anything, sweetheart. Whatever you need." He croaks out.

"I need you to fuck my mouth." You respond sternly, not wasting any time and taking him between your lips again. You push yourself down his cock as far as you can, breathing deeply before moving your hand to Harry's hand, which is holding onto your hair, and pushing your head forward to indicate that he needs to push his cock down your throat.

Again, it doesn't take him long to listen, because Harry's hips thrust forward, his dick gliding into your throat. You moan at the force with which he pushed, and keep your mouth wide open as you let Harry navigate your head.

Once he fully understands that you are allowing him to let him use your mouth, the true fun begins. With the firm grip he has on your head, he pushes you up and down at an ungodly speed. Your jaw is already tiring from its locked position, but you power through it because the sounds that leave Harry's mouth make up for it.

"Fuck baby, such a good mouth. Never had anything like this... Jesus!" He pants out as he begins to thrust up into your mouth, and you feel like you might pass out. Suddenly, he pulls you away from his dick.

You frown, and realize as he is grabbing for a tissue that he is avoiding messing up your face. You don't stand for it, though, and wrap your lips around his cock again just in time for him to come inside your mouth. You take him deeper and feel the way his sperm shoots in the back of your throat.

"Fuck! Shit, shit..." The not so wide arrange of curse words are the only thing Harry is capable of saying as he dumps his load inside your mouth. The fact that you were so adamant about having his sperm in your mouth made his orgasm even more intense.

Your mouth lets go of his cock with an exaggerated plop, and you swallow every last bit of him, grinning at his fucked out face.

"That was... amazing." He sighs, his gaze flicking from your mouth to your eyes. You hum in agreement, and get up from the floor as he pulls up his pants. You are about to walk away, when Harry grabs your wrist.

"Where are you going?"

"Home." You answer with a smile, but Harry's grip on you only tightens. He shakes his head, his lips pouting.

"No, you need to stay. Let me make you feel good too." He protests. You squint your eyes at him.

"I don't need to do anything."

Harry's eyes widen. "You're right. But just let me make you feel good before you go, please? It's the least I can do."

Your mouth slowly forms into a grin, glad to have him where you want. Well, almost.

"Beg me."

Harry scoffs. "Are you serious? I don't really do begging."

You shrug, smiling at him. "That's fine. My vibrator can get me off too."

You take a few steps towards the door, while Harry contemplates his decisions. However, those were all clouded by the sole moment to please you the second you mentioned your vibrator. The image of you getting off like that is too much to bear. He needs to do it for you.

"Stop." He says. You turn around, and walk back to him as he gets out of his chair and gets on his knees. Grabbing your waist, he pulls you closer, his nose digging into your dress. His hands run up and down your legs, and it is making you weak in your knees.

"Please, let me eat you out baby. I'll do anything to make you feel good. I need to taste you so bad, please let me pleasure you."

You swallow, eyelids ready heavy, as you sigh out. "Alright."

Harry grins at your admittance of defeat, and stands up. He leads you to sit on his desk, your dress hiked up. He removes the stuff behind you, so that you can lean back entirely in case you want to, and waltzes over to his chair.

Spreading your legs, he rolls himself closer to you, and assesses your soaking wet panties. Chuckling, he leans to the side and grabs a pair of scissors, before he cuts the skimpy material from your body. You'd say something of it, but the sight of him admiring your pussy like this is too fascinating to interrupt. So, you keep quiet.

When Harry's thumb suddenly presses on your clit and begins to rub it, you can't help but gasp. His touch feels too good, and that blowjob got you really worked up.

"You have no idea how many times I've fantasized about this." Harry says, marveling at how reactive you are being.

"Me too."

His eyebrows rise up. "Yeah? Tell me more, baby."

You bite your lip, too obsessed with the pet name he's given you. It sounds so sexy coming from his mouth. He awaits your response with bright eyes, lazily rubbing your clit.

"Your arms... I'd think about them so much. And your hands, I'd imagine you choking me with them. They're so big..." You begin, and you know that you could go on for hours if you had to tell him about everything you've thought about doing with him, or doing to him.

Harry doesn't say anything, instead responds with two fingers entering your pussy. You moan at the feeling of his large fingers pumping in and out of you. It feels way fuller than your hand already. His two fingers is the equivalent of your three fingers.

"We can definitely make those fantasies come true..." Harry says softly. "But first, let's make you come, hmm?"

You nod, your head falling back and allowing yourself to fully indulge in the pleasure Harry's giving you right now. You let yourself lay on his desk, wrapping your legs around his shoulders.

"Fuck, that feels good– oh fuck!" You shriek out when Harry tongue begins attacking your tongue after he adds a third finger. He speeds up the movements of his hand to match those of his tongue, and holds onto that tempo until your mind can't conjure up any more words to speak to him.

With the control entirely out of your hands, you let Harry guide you to your orgasm, which washes over your body like a tidal wave. You unconsciously push Harry's head further into your pussy with your legs. With an arched back, you moan at the sensitivity of your clit.

Harry lets you take a minute to catch your breath before he pulls on your arms to have you sit up straight. He is smiling sweetly at you, and your heart warms at it.

"You okay?" He asks, kissing your hands. You nod, trying to ignore the flutters in your heart at the way he is being so gentle.

"Thank you for letting me make you feel good, baby." He says, getting up and leaning into your face. His nose brushes against your cheek as he plants his lips on yours. Your arms wrap around Harry's neck as you kiss him deeper, too caught up in how good he feels and how much you want him.

You're never this greedy. You've never felt like you needed a man's cock inside of you. Like it was the only feasible option. You feel it driving you crazy, and you're sure it is the only reason you say— no, ask:

"Please, fuck me."

The grin that forms on Harry's lips makes you feel like you should regret what you said. A grin like that usually belongs on your face in situations like these. But you need him so bad, you don't really care that you are the desperate one this time.

"Oh, you're begging now too, huh?" He says cockily. You glare at him, pissed that he's acknowledging your neediness and mocking you for it too.

"It's alright baby, I'll give it to you. 'M cock's already hard again from watching you come like that. So fucking sexy..." He says. He pulls his pants down and lifts you off the table, turning you around to the glass windows and pushing your hands against them. "Bend over a bit and speak your legs for me, baby."

You do as he says, biting your lip at Harry's hand that pushes away your dress and roams over your ass. He positions his cock at your entrance and pushes himself into you, sighing in pure relief. You shut your eyes tightly at the size of him filling you up.

"Fuck, you feel good baby." He says, slowly beginning to move in and out a bit. You let out a soft 'yes', causing Harry's jaw to clench. He spanks your ass, watching as it bounces from the impact, and his cock twitching at your yelp.

"Perfect fucking ass... perfect fucking girl, aren't you?" He groans, now lazily thrusting into you. He wants to give you time to adjust, but he learns your wishes when you begin to push yourself back into him.

"Ah, I see. Greedy girl wants to speed things up, hmm? Your wish is my command." He mocks, but does speed up his pace. His hands hold your waist as he begins to pound himself into you, your ass shaking at the impact. He spanks your ass again for good measure, obsessed with the way it moves.

You nearly lose yourself in how good it feels, but you know that he can get deeper than this.

"I want to ride you... want to feel you in my tummy." You spit out, hoping he understands what you're saying in your croaky voice.

Harry listens, pulling himself out of you immediately and taking a seat in the chair. You turn around and walk over to him, throwing your legs on both sides of his lap, before grabbing his cock and sinking yourself down on it.

It goes smoother this time, but Harry's really deep now, just like you wanted. The sensation is everything to you, and it isn’t hard to tell how good it feels for him too. Glad to have a bit of the control back, you start to bounce on his cock.

Harry’s eyes travel over your body, fascinated by the way you are moving above him. His hands travel to the straps of your dress and push them down until he can get your tits out of the top part of your dress. He begins to massage them as you keep impaling yourself on his dick over and over again.

"Fuck, daddy, you feel so good... so good for me. Listening to me. Knew this was the best way to fuck you... you love it." You slur happily. Harry nods profusely at your words, jaw clenched and moaning out in pleasure.

"Yes, needed it so bad baby. You're fucking daddy so good..."

You smile at how caught up Harry looks in his pleasure, like he doesn't know what to do with it. You, however, do know what to with it. You grab one of his hands and wrap it around your throat, before you do the same to him. With his hand on your neck and yours on his, you begin to fuck him as fast as you can.

"Ah, fffuck... shit! Holy shit!" He yells out, and automatically thrusts himself up into you, reaching an even further level of deepness you had never thought possible. That along with your hands on each other’s necks, is enough to know that your climaxes are near.

"Come inside me daddy." You pant out, and he does. It is as if your permission set him off. You smile in delight at the feel and knowledge of his cum being so deep inside of you.

You fuck Harry through his orgasm, and even after. He squirms in his seat. "Wait— too sensitive."

"I don't care, I haven't come yet. Don't you want to make me feel good? Have me coming around your thick cock?" You say sensually, and Harry nods. "Words."

"Yes– fuck! I want you to come, please come around my cock. Please, please..." He begins to beg, a tear rolling down his cheek.

Your toes curl at his whiny voice, and soon your juices are gushing all over his cock. Your pussy contracting around him seems to set Harry off even more, as you feel even more sperm spraying out of his dick and into your walls.

You ride out your high until you can't move anymore. You sit there, forehead pressed against Harry's as you both come down from what just happened.

After a minute or two, you decide to pull out. Slowly but surely, you manage to get Harry's dick out of you without hissing too much at the sensitivity of every single body part down there.

You lean against the desk, too wobbly to stand on your own, and you let Harry wipe you clean with the tissues on his desk. After cleaning himself up, he stands up and positions himself in front of you.

"Hey." He says. Your hand cups his jaw and your thumb wipes away the tear that is far down his face now.

"Hi." You tilt your head. The both of you burst out laughing, still surprised by what went down just now.

"That was really good." He says once the laughter has died down. You nod in agreement.

"Good enough for a repeat?"

Harry pretends to think it over, before he responds: "under one condition."

"And what would that be?" You quirk up an eyebrow, intrigued by his vagueness. He smiles at you so wide that you wonder if his mouth might be hurting.

"You let me take you out on a date first."

You roll your eyes, pretending not to be amused as he chuckles at your reaction. But the second you see the look on his face and the sincerity behind it, you realize that he is being quite serious about this request. You bite your lip, wanting to kiss him right then and there.

"I would love that."

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klipkillakai · 6 months

Note

that ony clip gave me so many butterflies omg 😩 it lowk reminded me of a punishment like what if homegirl went out for the first time in a while and missed the curfew only gave her but he see on sasha and historia ig she’s drunk shaking her ass on the car or smthn 😭😭

ouuu girl it gave me butterflies too, but you ate so lemme walk with you rq 🤭

ony was sitting on the couch rolling his second blunt while an episode of breaking bad plays in the background, he doesn’t usually get to watch this show because you usually like to watch love island or your ghetto ass reality shows that he pretends not to be invested in—

he glances at the time on his phone noting that you should be home soon and he leans back and lights his blunt, taking a hit and throwing his lighter back on the coffee table

he ticks a hand in his sweats and mindlessly smokes and watches his show, another hour passes and he checks his phone again sending you a quick text

baby moms 💙

-wya?

he quickly leaves the text and clicks on insta checking your story but seeing it hasn’t been updated for 2hrs, he quickly scrolls and finds sasha’s and clicks through them and stopping on a video of you, drunkenly singing a song and twerking on another one of your ghetto ass homegirls, ony smacks his teeth quickly standing up

“this fucking girl man” he walks towards the door, and grabs his keys, slipping on his slides and getting in his car and speeding off while trynna call you..

“bend that ass over let that coochie breathe” you slur while slowly whining on your friend as she takes a video of you guys, your having a fucking good ass time, you haven’t been out in ages and you miss it, you begged ony to let you go.. and after days acting sweet and a few blow jobs, he let you, but with rules of course.. he gave you a curfew which you gladly accepted but quickly broke as soon as you got a few shots in you—

you were feeling bold, who was he to tell you what you could and couldn’t do, he wasn’t your daddy! well… not all the time anyway—

your standing in your section in your own world, sipping on your drink until, you feel someone behind you, and a chill runs up your spine cause you know exactly who it is, you turn around and look up at him

“didnt i tell you to come come after 12?”

your heart sinks a bit “yea but i was having fu-

“i don’t give a fuck, i told yo lil’ ass that ion fucking trust this club and you still didn’t listen”

you smack your teeth a bit “papa your being so extra right now, nobody is even-

you feel ony’s large hand wrap around your neck and he leans in a whispers in your ear

“im gon tear yo ass up when we get home” you feel tingles bloom in your lower belly and feel your face get hot—

“tell your lil friends your leaving” you softly nod and turn around grabbing your bags and saying soft byes and sorry’s, while your friends give you knowing looks and soft smiles—

ony grabs your hand and drags you out the club as fast as your heels will let you, quickly opening the door for you, and letting you get in before speeding off once again—

“im just trynna get my paper straight” you hear brent sing as ony pounds ya shit, you let out loud moans and choked sobs, “p-please” you whimper out as you reach behind trynna to press against his stomach, running away from the dick—

“nah move ya hand” he roughly says, quickly grabbing your hand and pressing it against your back, pulling your hair, and starting to drill into you—

“oh my god” you whine, pathetically whimpering letting him just man handle you, letting out his frustrations on you…

“take that shit” he grunts, pounding into you “mhm” he whispers, tightening his grip around your hair

“i c-cant” “p-pa-

he hears you he really does, but he can’t get over this shit, not this time, you need to learn, yo lil ass get real disrespectful and he’s tired of it..

“nah tell them all that shit you was saying in the camera, let them hear all this” he lifts you up and pulls you towards the camera, while still pounding into you

“i-im sorry” you sob “im s-so so sorry papa” “pl-please haaa~ ” you feel the tears rolling down your cheeks, your so overstimulated and he’s so deep inside you.. too deep even, you just need a break

“b-break” you choke out.. “need a break”

“hm baby?” “you need a break” he says mockingly while biting his lips after feeling you tighten around him, “lil ass can’t even handle some dick, you think you finna go out again?” “you crazy mama”

“please!” you moan again, pathetically trying to reach down to rub your clit, to soothe some of the stretch your feeling— god it hurts so good, your eyes nearly roll back into your skull—

“you wanna break?” “here” ony quickly pulls out, breathing heavy, grabbing his phone concluding the punishment he was giving you, you lay on the bed heaving, pussy leaking more slick, your shaking and tired..

ony slaps your ass, and leaves hot kisses down your back “i bet you’ll never do some shit like that again” “right mama?” you just tiredly nod.. he slaps your ass again “let me hear you say it” “p-promise papa” “i won’t do it again” ony nods and slowly slips inside you again, this time giving you slow strokes, and rubbing small circles on your clit.. “mmm~

the rest of the night he takes care of you, ending in mind blowing orgasms, he can never stay mad at you for too long, your still his baby girl..

|a/n|

wait yall!! i’m fucking with this oneeee ouuuu, yall i love me some ony! 🤭

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sinsofsummers · 1 year

Text

sensational

6.9k | joel miller & f!innocent!reader part two

this comes from this request. a few liberties were taken with the details (the reader knows that sex exists, but not much else), just fyi!

summary: thanks to becoming an orphan at age 13, you've lived the rest of your life oblivious to all the world can offer. now that you're in jackson, joel miller ignites something in you that only he can give answers to. warnings: slight angst (mentions of parent loss), innocent!fem!reader, age gap (joel is 56, reader is 25), kind of pervy!joel, smut (18+, mdni!!!), fingering, grinding, reader watches old pornos with joel, slight praise kink, no use of y/n. note: i planned originally to have this be just one part, but even though it ends in a way that i like, i could maybe be convinced to write a second part teehee (part two coming soon!)

You used to love the rain. The way it cascaded down your skin in little droplets, cleansing your body from a hard day's work, and the way it made your hair look so perfectly disheveled.

You craved the rain, until it became nothing but a reminder of the night your parents died.

It had been years at this point, but you would never quite forget how young, and small, and unsuspecting you'd been when they told you to run. How cruel, that time might pass, you might change, but with one smattering of rain, you returned so swiftly to the worst night of your life.

The three of you had been living alone, making your way...somewhere, but they never told you where. Your parents' only wish was to keep you safe, that much was clear. So it shouldn't have been a surprise that upon an ambush by at least ten clickers, after both your parents had been infected, that they'd insist that you run.

"Please, darling," your mother had pleaded, a lump in her throat as she formed the words. "Don't make me beg. I need you to run. Promise?"

Your father was somewhere else, but you could hear him yelling in the distance, in a fight for his life. You were too young, even at thirteen, to understand that those were the sounds of a dying man.

"I'll be right behind you," she'd choked on the last phrase, and in hindsight, you knew she was lying. But in the moment, you'd believed her. You couldn't see the bite she was hiding on her arm, her fate already sealed. "I'll come for you, my love," she insisted, "but I need you to go. Head for the woods."

It was the last time you saw her. You'd turned tail and had run as fast as you could for the woods.

The last thing you heard was a gunshot. A single shot, echoing around you in the trees. It may have been impossible to know, but you didn't need to turn back. Your parents were dead.

If you hadn't found Jackson, who knows how long you might have lasted. Nearing your twenty-first year, you'd proven valuable to the community, and they'd welcomed you in. Jackson was the first home you'd had since you were five.

It hadn't occurred to you that you were years behind your peers in terms of...well, everything, until you met Joel.

Rugged, tan, and sporting a perpetual frown paired with an ever-present crease between his brows, Joel Miller was your patrol partner. You weren't exactly sure why, and he didn't seem particularly pleased about it, but then again—he never seemed particularly pleased about anything.

It hadn't struck you as anything to be proud of, or to boast about to the other young women in Jackson, but they certainly loved coming up to you and expressing their jealousy when they felt so inclined.

"What's he like on patrol?" they'd ask, their eyes wide and lips curled in smirks as they waited for any insight you could give them on his mysterious personality.

All you could ever say over the next four years was a quick, "He's quiet."

Maybe that was why the two of you worked well. He wasn't much of a talker, and after you'd lost your parents, you hadn't been one to waste any breath on conversation, especially when you had survived alone with your own thoughts for almost eight years.

Silence was your mutual understanding. No talking meant no questions, and no questions meant no problems.

And this worked. Until it didn't.

-- -- --

It started like anything started. Quietly, hardly a bother, until it sank into the marrow of your bones and demanded that you address it.

More literally, it started in your shoulders. You'd been on patrol with Joel, a quiet, "Let's go," his only words to you that morning. They were his only words to you every morning, and that day was no different.

Patrolling with him was easy. Like you'd said—no talking, so no problems. You rode next to each other on your respective horses, and there was nothing more than a glance or two toward each other when necessary. It was the only form of communication that the two of you shared.

His big brown eyes had always startled you, looking so inviting in the contrast of the white snow during the winter, but they never showed you more than he allowed you to see. And all you saw of Joel was his dedication to sleep, patrol, eat, and repeat.

You hadn't felt the desire to look that closely at him until some of the girls in Jackson asked you how big his hands were, or what he looked like up close.

"You know," one of them had crooned, not realizing you were unsure of their intentions, "what does he look like without that big old coat on?"

You'd shrugged. "Why should I know?"

Another one wiggled her eyebrows. "Doesn't it get...lonely out there? Nothing but you, the snow, and a big man like Joel to keep you company?"

The faces of those girls, the glint in their eyes, it was something you couldn't quite decipher, as much as you wished you could. So one day, you'd asked the man himself what it all meant.

When you said it for the first time, it was so quiet that you could hardly even hear yourself.

Joel grunted, the only indication that he'd heard you.

Your cheeks burned, but you couldn't find a reason why. This was just Joel. He seemed to know everything there was to know about life; surely he could help you understand this. "Why do the girls in town keep asking me what it's like to patrol with you?"

He didn't answer for a second, but then shrugged. "They botherin' you?"

"No." You weren't quite sure that was true, and knowing him, he could probably hear the lie in your voice. "They're just kind of...belligerent."

His eyebrow cocked. "S'a big word," he mused. "Sure you know what it means?"

Your cheeks grew hot. "Yes," you insisted sharply. "I do read, you know."

He murmured a response, but the wind carried it away from you. You rode in silence for a bit longer before he said, "Don't let those girls get in your head. I think they just wanna get a rise outta you."

"A rise?"

Joel nodded and brought his horse to a routine stop. This was where the two of you always stretched your legs. He reached up to help you down your own mount and set you on the ground gingerly. "You know," he said, as if you should know, but with no regard for the fact that you didn't. "You're still kinda new here. Seems they're still pretty dead-set on embarrassin' you."

"I'm not embarrassed," you insisted again. "I just...is there a joke I'm not getting?"

"Any reason you chose to talk so much today?" was his only answer, which made your stomach clench.

There was no reason for you to be offended, as it was your typical routine to remain quiet unless absolutely necessary, but you couldn't help the way your lips curved downward. "Sorry," you mumbled, "forget I asked."

He was quiet again as the two of you walked at least two hundred paces, stretching out your sore muscles in the snow. It used to be comforting, the silence. It wasn't maddening, it didn't ever bother you if Joel was in his thoughts. You weren't even sure at times if he had any. But all that had changed now; his brow creased more than it usually did, and you wanted nothing more than to ask him what he was thinking.

Joel was the one constant in your life now. Maybe it was a—well, probably it was a trauma response from losing your parents, but you couldn't help it. You didn't need much from anyone, just someone to stay. Joel was strong enough to take care of himself and was smart enough not to make any rash decisions. As far as you could tell, he'd stay.

So how could you be so embarrassed by asking these questions?

"I forgot how long you said you were...alone out there," his grunting voice filled the space between you once more. It was quiet, and he sounded hesitant, as if he wasn't sure how to speak.

"Since I was thirteen," you said mechanically, so familiar with others in Jackson asking the same question.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath. "And you're how old?"

"Twenty-five," you said, feeling oddly small in his presence.

He shook his head. "That's a long time to be alone," he muttered, blowing out a breath.

You huffed. "Yeah, well, I survived. And besides, I've been here for four years now, you know."

"I know."

Again, the silence. Infuriating.

Then, you couldn't help it. "What's...'spooning,' and why do those girls ask me if we've done it?"

Joel stumbled, reaching out for balance. His hand found purchase on your shoulder, and you caught him awkwardly. "You don't even know what spooning is?" He sounded incredulous, as if you'd asked a juvenile question.

The warmth from his hand was astonishing, and distracted you from your embarrassment, if only for a moment. It sank through his glove into your coat, and down toward your skin. Something about the weight of his hand on your shoulder, even for a second as he removed it quickly, was enough to send you spiraling.

Your face burned. "Never mind," you said quietly and mounted your horse again. How stupid could you get? You scolded yourself. You'd ventured too far into this conversation, and now you didn't know how to get yourself out of it. "I was just...never mind. We should get back."

He nodded, but his face still looked somewhat pinched. "Yeah. S'getting dark."

The sun was still up. No intention of sinking beneath the horizon for at least a few hours. You rode again in uncomfortable silence, this time letting it fill the space. You foolishly thought that maybe if you were quiet long enough, he'd forget that you'd made a fool of yourself, that you'd exposed yourself to the truth: that you knew hardly anything about...anything except for survival instincts.

When Joel spoke again, it surprised you. "I didn't mean to tease ya," he said. "It's just kind of a surprise that you're not...that you don't..." he looked over at you, and there was some type of pleading in his eyes, as if he were begging you not to make him say it.

"That I don't what?" you said dumbly, hoping you didn't sound as childish as you felt.

He pondered his next words carefully, and then he hummed, "If you want, I could...teach you some stuff."

"Like spooning?" You felt a warmth in your face as you watched his shoulders hunch with a soft laughter. Your own shoulder burned where he'd touched it, and something bloomed in your gut.

He chuckled. "I don't know about all that," he said, "but I'll help you get...back on track. Would hate for someone to take advantage of your...innocence." It sounded sinful, the way he said it, and the something in your gut pulsed.

"You don't have to," you shook your head, but you didn't even believe the words as they came out of your mouth. "I'll just ask someone else."

"Darlin', don't trust anyone else to give you straight answers. I'm older'n half of everyone in Jackson, anyway." He flashed you a look. "I'll help. Whatever you want to know."

You bit the insides of your cheeks, your stomach turning strangely. "Anything?"

He nodded dutifully, but his eyes had already left yours. Joel Miller, ever the professional. "Whatever you want."

-- -- --

Joel liked to consider himself someone who would never again suffer the shock of surprises. After having lived through and seen more shit than any normal person could, he thought he'd experienced it all.

That is, until her pretty lips had opened and asked him to teach her about all she'd missed. Until she asked him to teach her.

He hadn't really seen her as the picture of innocence until he'd heard how long she'd been alone, surviving with no one and nothing besides her own thoughts and the clothes on her back.

The least her parents could do was teach her how to shoot, he'd thought when he first met her. It was a curiosity that was quickly resolved, as she'd proven herself valuable to Jackson.

Tommy had wasted no time putting them on patrol together. "It'll be good for you," his brother had reasoned when he brought up concerns. "You know, to talk to someone out there. I know she's on the young side, but you don't gotta fall in love with her." He'd flashed an apologetic smile when Joel had scowled. "You're scarin' everyone, Joel. Bein' all quiet and shit...it's—"

"It's what?" he'd asked gruffly. "I don't do it on purpose. I'm a grown man."

This was all true, and he very much didn't do it on purpose. With no one around whom he deemed worthy of his conversation, Joel Miller had become the quiet, introspective version of himself that everyone decided to become scared of all of a sudden.

The way he saw things? It wasn't his fault everyone in Jackson was boring. Or childish.

But her. With her unmistakable will to survive and those eyes that could burn fierce with ire one moment, and soften with curiosity the next...it was only a matter of time before he agreed to do whatever she asked.

He should have seen it coming, especially considering her past. Every time he thought of just how...unsuspecting she was about...everything, he had to shake his head, clearing it of any thoughts that threatened to take advantage of her.

But being ignorant of spooning. He had to clear his throat every time he thought of what that might mean for himself in this particular arrangement. If she knew nothing of something so...palatable, he could hardly help himself when thinking of what else she might be unaware of.

He tried to be patient, and he tried to be respectful, but at the end of the day, he was Joel Miller. From the moment she looked at him with those wide eyes, he was lost.

-- -- --

"What I would give to give that man the ride of his life," one of the girls next to you hummed at breakfast the next morning, her eyes presumably glued to Joel, who'd just come into the cafeteria. You didn't look up at him, instead casting a confused glance toward the girl who'd spoken.

"Ride where?" You cursed your quick instinct to ask questions, as the girls erupted into a fit of giggles. Face burning, you looked down again at your plate. "Never mind," came your almost instantaneous response. You were getting used to having to apologize for your ignorance, and people rarely—especially not these girls—offered their kindness.

One of the other girls snickered. "Why don't you ask him? I'm sure there's nothing much to talk about out there anyway," she said, smiling widely. Her next words were nothing short of a drawl, the complete essence of mockery. "'Joel, what's it mean to ride?'" she pinched her face in what you assumed was an impression of you, and it only made your eyebrows furrow despite your stomach sinking in utter horror.

And then there he was. He'd called your name, and now he was standing behind your left shoulder, hand outstretched to save you.

You were sure his hand had never looked quite as appealing as it did now. The calluses on his palm were raised and visibly rough. For a moment, you stared at his fingers and wondered what they might feel like against your cheek.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, that something arose in your gut once more before you heard him murmur your name again.

"Come on," he grunted, but there was a gentleness to it that made the hair on the nape of your neck stand on end. "Time to go."

The girls at your table were silent when you took his hand gingerly and let him lead you from the cafeteria. You noted the swift wave of cold that hit your hand as soon as he dropped it, just a second later. Clasping your hands together, you hoped in a fit of desperation that you might preserve some of the weight and warmth of his touch on your skin. It failed.

"Thanks," you said later, when the two of you were outside the community's borders. Jackson felt a bit too stuffy for any real admissions of gratitude, you'd decided. It turned out to be a good conclusion when you felt the delicious churn of your stomach at the idea of being alone with him once more.

I'm sure there's nothing much to talk about out there anyway, one of the girls had said. Doesn't it get lonely out there? You were reminded of another's teasing, and this time your cheeks burned at the memory. Nothing but you, the snow, and a big man like Joel to keep you company.

He was big, you considered. When he stood next to you, his frame was almost larger than life, and his shoulders were sinfully broad when you watched him walk in front of you on previous patrols. The sheer size of him was enough to send you into a heady descent.

As usual, Joel didn't answer for what felt like ages, and you'd begun to wonder if he could see where your train of thought had led you. Then:

"You could have told me they were bein' that outrageous," he grunted, keeping his eyes forward. "I woulda helped you out sooner. S'no fun feelin' left outta everything."

It was...odd to hear such words come from a man like Joel. Although, you reminded yourself, you'd hardly spoken to him in the four years that you'd been in Jackson; who was to say he wasn't normally like this? A quiet, brooding older man, yes; but maybe he was naturally like this. One to offer his help.

"If you wanted to help, you would have made an effort four years ago." You let your words hang in the air. You didn't mean for them to come off sharp; it was simply the truth. "I don't need your help," you added, tightening your hands on the reins of your horse and swallowing roughly. "It was fine. I am fine."

He flashed you a look as if to say, is that so? You couldn't help but notice the way the corners of his eyes creased, the only sign of amusement. It was all you could do to keep your eyes on him, although you weren't sure how you were going to explain the way your mouth went dry at the sight of his big brown eyes.

"Besides," you insisted quietly, "you're not my dad."

Joel cleared his throat. Looked down, shoulders tense. Inhaled. "No," he said decidedly. "No, I'm not."

Emboldened by this clarification, you inquired, "So what did those girls mean earlier? Riding, I mean?"

If you could have guaranteed the image of Joel's eyes going wide in surprise to remain in your head for the rest of your days, you would have done it instantly. His forehead was creased as his eyebrows lifted, and despite his position facing away from you, you could see it all.

The way he seemed to wrestle with himself before answering, the way his hands seemed to clench in his gloves. "So, uh..." he started, and then paused again. Mustering up whatever courage he needed, Joel finished, "Well, ya see, when a man and woman love each other very much—"

"Joel." Oh. You couldn't help it when a breathless chuckle left your lips.

He was silent, and when he finally answered, it wasn't a question. "What."

"I'm not fucking stupid. I know how reproduction works."

Joel's chest rose and fell in a deep sigh, and you couldn't ignore the look of complete relief that washed over his rough features. "Thank fuckin' Christ. Didn't know if I had it in me for another sex talk. I'm too old to be doin' this."

"Believe it or not, my parents did leave me with the basic information." Swallowing roughly, you continued. "And I know...I know that men usually...take. It's an assertion of power, from what I've...seen."

He shook his head. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised that you've run into your fair share of dirtbags, even in the middle of the world goin' to shit." He ran a gloved hand through his hair, and you secretly enjoyed the way it stood up. "Anyone ever, you know...take...from you?"

Hearing your own words regurgitated back to you left you feeling fluttery. Shaking your head, you got down from your horse; you'd reached your typical resting spot. "No," you said firmly. "They never wanted me."

Joel nodded. "S'good," he said, and it bothered you to no end that you couldn't understand the emotion in his voice. "So..."

By now he was standing next to you, closer than you were used to, judging by the way his coat sleeve bumped yours as the two of you walked, stretching your legs. "So," you said, thinking up a way to make this conversation less awkward. "I just hate feeling like a kid again. I'm twenty-five, for fuck's sake. There's more than just survival when it comes to living. I just want to know what I'm missing out on," you confessed with a hand on your stomach.

When Joel brushed by your side again your stomach flipped. And what the fuck is that about, and why do I keep feeling it? You asked inwardly, but you were too nervous to ask. Bombarding Joel with questions, especially after you'd just started talking to him on patrol after four years, seeming to be the wrong path to take.

He shrugged, eyebrows still furrowed in thought. "There's nothing to miss if you don't know what you're missin'."

"Yes," you admitted, "but that doesn't stop any of those girls from making me feel like I'm..."

"Innocent?" he murmured, and you thought you weren't meant to hear it until he turned to look at you.

Those big brown eyes, they just won't quit, a voice nudged you in your head.

"I don't want to be innocent," you groaned, throwing your head back. "God, not in the sense that they see me in. Sounds like a damn curse."

The sound of his rumbling laughter, however quiet, sent a shock down your spine and you nearly tripped in the snow. "There's pros and cons, I s'pose," he offered. "It's like I said: I'll help you get back on track. If that's what you really want."

"It is." You stopped walking, took a look around at the landscape, otherwise empty with the scattering of trees. You swallowed, pressed one. "So...riding. It's a part of reproducing, then?"

He chuckled again, but this time it didn't come off as demeaning. It was like he was teasing you, but good-naturedly. "Let's not jump too far ahead of ourselves, yeah? Start with somethin' smaller. Then we'll work our way up."

Joel's eyes were piercing when he held yours in his gaze. If someone watched this conversation, you were sure they'd be able to see the blush blooming on your cheeks.

"Learnin' takes time, ya know," he mused, his growling voice nearly a hum that could have warmed you from the inside out.

You'd made it to the edge of the woods now. This was normally where you turned back, heading for home. But neither of you moved. The bubble of something pulsed again, and you swallowed roughly before whispering hoarsely, "So where should we start?"

-- -- --

If Joel were a better man, he might have warned her what the curse of innocence in a young woman could be. He might have shook his head, stepped back, and told her to ask someone else. He might have taken the reins and turned the two of them back toward Jackson.

If he were better, he wouldn't have stepped closer to her. If he were a better man, he wouldn't have looked into her sparkling eyes and let the question slip. Fuck it all.

"You ever been kissed, darlin'?"

-- -- --

You swallowed. Don't make a fool of yourself, you begged yourself before answering with a quiet shake of your head. "Not many contenders out there. Not any good ones, anyway."

He'd leaned closer to you with his question, and now you could practically see each line of age in his face. Joel's expression was unclear; he could have been pleased with this information or...or maybe there was pity in his eyes. "No," he said with an understanding nod. "No, I suppose there wouldn't have been."

He lifted a gloved hand to his mouth and you watched as he traced it along his lips. The gray strands in his hair glinted off the sunlight, blinking pleasantly in your eyes. That something pulsed once more in your stomach, and there was a sort of realization that came with it.

Joel, you thought. Joel is making me feel like this.

"Will you kiss me?" The words were out of your mouth before you could reel them in.

But instead of laughing, or scoffing, or giving any sign of mockery, Joel Miller inhaled quietly. "You know how much older I am than you?" he asked.

You nodded. "We're both adults, Joel. Besides," you felt a ghost of a smirk come to grace your lips, a feigned confidence coming to save you in this moment of truth. "I thought you told me to ask you these questions."

He sighed. "You're right."

"So? Will you?" you asked, with a small, "please?" coming out afterward.

He moved slowly, something you were equally thankful for as you were frustrated with, but his forehead met yours soon enough. His eyelashes brushed against your cheek, and he let out a shaky breath, letting it fan deliciously across your face. The knowledge that he was just as nervous as you were was not only a comfort; it was perhaps the most attractive thing you'd ever known.

And when you lifted your chin, just a hairsbreadth from his lips, your eyes fluttered closed, waiting for him to meet you in the middle. It only took a moment before he was closing his mouth over yours, and Joel Miller was kissing you.

He was gentle, of course, but there was something restrained about his kiss, the way he slowly slotted his lips over yours as if you might crack under any more pressure. It only made you want more, more, more...

You pressed your hands to his chest and curled them into fists, tugging his jacket to lessen the distance between your bodies even more. You didn't know how you were doing this, how you'd managed to find confidence in what could have easily been a humiliating experience. Your first kiss at twenty-five? With anyone else, it might have been a nightmare.

With Joel, it was turning out to be the most delightful dream.

"So soft, baby," he pulled back to whisper against your mouth. "These lips are so soft for me."

You hummed your response and pulled him back to you, letting him see that you wanted more. That incessant pressure was building, and it wasn't until he had his arms sliding around your waist that you forced yourself to pull back, head spinning. "Joel."

He blinked. "What? Too fast?" He shook his head. "I'm sorry, darlin', you're just so—"

"No, that's not it." You managed a weak smile, but the look in his eye, the question and the undeniable desire—is that what it looks like?—quivering in his brown irises, nearly made you collapse. He waited for you to continue, his hands never leaving you, a courtesy you were grateful for. "I feel...hot." Your cheeks warmed. "Um, there's this...pressure."

His lips closed in a tight smirk, and he squeezed your hips. "Where, baby?" he murmured, and you could have sworn you saw stars outlining his head at the sound of the pet name. "Show me," he cooed.

"Um." You paused, unsure of just how. But with his hands on your waist, his heavy, warm touch melting you on the spot, you took one of his gloved hands in yours and guided him to your stomach. "Here. Kind of."

"Yeah?" he said, and you forgot about the cold. About your horses waiting to be mounted, about your other responsibilities in Jackson. All you could see were his dark eyes that had somehow grown darker as you pushed his hand down, down, down...

"Fuck, babygirl," he cursed, and let his hand rest on the crux of your thighs, just barely pressing on the source of the tingling sensation. If anything, it made it worse, and you let a breathy whine fall from your lips. "You're gonna be the death of me, huh?" he groaned.

You couldn't form words. Just one kiss (a very good kiss, mind you) and a heavy hand on your core was all it took, apparently. You could hardly look anywhere but his face, your mouth dropping open as your hips moved of their own accord, grinding into his hand before you realized you were doing it. "Joel—" you whimpered, and he pulled his hand away.

There wasn't enough time for you to feel jilted, as he tugged you back to your horse and practically launched you onto it himself. "We're goin' back," he said firmly, "now."

Swallowing, your throat dry and rough, you pressed a hand to your cheek, feeling the heat swimming under your skin. "Did I do something wrong?"

You could hardly see him shake his head as he mounted his own horse, looking back at you to make sure you were following him. "'Course not," he called over his shoulder. When you caught up with him, the two of you shoulder-to-shoulder, he continued. "Look, darlin', f'I'm gonna be givin' you your first kiss and makin' you feel that good..." he sighed, his dark eyes finding yours. "I'm not doin' it in a fuckin' snowbank."

-- -- --

The entire ride back to Jackson was painfully long, silent but for Joel's mumbled directions, despite the fact that the two of you had taken this same route countless times in the four years that you patrolled together.

Your eyes were trained forward, and you knew his were as well, but it took everything in you not to glance at him even for a second. If you did, you were afraid that the pressure building in the crux of your thighs would never go away.

It would be unfair to say that you were completely unaware of what might happen when you got back to Jackson, but you still didn't know much, which left a nervous bubble rising in your gut. It wasn't like there were any books left in Jackson that you could read about it, or any movies that Maria would allow to remain in the community's borders.

Again, you got a wave of feeling like this should have concerned you, or at least made you a little anxious. But with Joel pulling ahead, his strong back the only thing you could look at, you felt the knot of tension release in your stomach. This was Joel. After four years—even four mostly silent years—of working together, you felt like you...knew him, somehow. That he couldn't possibly lead you astray.

Sure enough, when you were both within the borders, horses returned safely to their stables, the tension returned. Or had it ever really dissipated?

Joel hovered close to you as you left the stables. "Let's go, darlin'," he breathed, a gloved hand on your lower back as he guided you.

"Where?" you said, and you hoped it didn't sound as desperate as it did to you, the pressure getting worse. "I need—"

"I know, baby, I know," he cooed gently, his head on a swivel as if looking for anyone who might stop you. "We're goin' to mine. I've got the perfect lesson planned for ya, alright?"

It was all you could do to nod and let him push you forward through the snowy streets. If only those girls could see you now.

Once inside, you took a breath. There was no one around, and once the door closed behind you, the silence felt all the more heavy. "Ellie?" you asked, if only in courtesy.

He shook his head, and you bit your lip when you saw him smirk. "Just us, doll."

Joel shed his outer layers, and when he stood in front of you, you realized that this was the first time you'd seen him without his coat. Without his gloves, aside from that morning.

Your eyes snagged on his fingers, and you swallowed roughly when you saw the way they twitched, as if in anticipation for something. Or maybe he was holding himself back, you considered. His jaw did seem to have an impatient clench to it. Hands rough like you knew they would be, it didn't take long for your mind to wander into thinking of what it might be like to feel those hands on your skin.

With any luck, he'd give you the sweet release you craved, however it would unfold.

"See anything you like?" he teased, and your cheeks warmed.

"Sorry," you fumbled for a response, your eyes dropping. You'd meant to clear your head, but then your eyes were caught on his thighs. Specifically how hard the seams on his jeans were fighting to remain unripped. "Um, a lesson, you said?"

He nodded, reaching out a hand to take your own coat off, leaving you in the sweater and pants you'd had on all day. You were sure your hair was knotted and would be for days, but he only smoothed a hand down your face, letting you lean into his touch. His fingers were still cold, but your face was hot and it offered a dizzying sense of relief.

"I could never teach you all this," he murmured, his thumb rubbing back and forth in an absentminded swipe across your cheek. "Not without getting...distracted," he finished, pressing his other hand to your waist. Underneath the thick layer of your coat, his hand felt like a hot iron scorching your skin, despite there still being a few layers of clothes between your bodies.

"Distraction is okay," you breathed, lifting a hand to cup his on your waist. "Right?"

He shook his head, a chuckle lifting from deep in his chest. "Not tonight," he whispered. "Tonight, I want to stick to the plan."

"Which is?"

Wordlessly, he removed the hand on your waist and entwined it with your own, tugging you toward the living room where an old television had been placed on a rickety-looking shelf. "Sit," he directed, and you did so without hesitation. He paused, biting back a smile at your eager cooperation, and adjusted himself.

It occurred to you that as much as you were affected by him, he was experiencing a similar effect from you. His pants, already tighter than sin, seemed to have become even tighter, as a bulge began to grow while he stood just a few feet from your face.

"Joel—"

"No, no," he waved a dismissive hand and went to the television to grab something. He came back with something you recognized: a VHS tape. "Don't worry 'bout me, sweets. Tonight's just for you."

"We're gonna watch a movie?" you asked, trying to ignore the way your heart sank a little. You had been hoping that the two of you would kiss some more, and maybe even...you didn't even know the name for it.

"Not just any movie," he grinned, putting it in to watch. The video started. "A special one."

When the scene opened on a man and a woman in the throes of passion, you gasped. "No way," you whispered. "I thought Maria—"

He shrugged, sinking down on the couch beside you, his knee bumping yours. "She must've missed this one," was all he said.

The woman looked to be enjoying herself, as her scene partner kissed her neck, dragging his tongue from the dip in her clavicle to the curve of skin where her neck met her ear. A cartoon-ish moan left her lips, but you didn't pay it any mind. The sight of it made your thighs clench together subconsciously, the lick of pressure rising again in your center.

"Joel—"

"Shh," he said gently. "C'mere, darlin'." With no more than a heavy hand on your waist, he tugged you closer to him, situating you over his lap. "Comfortable?"

You almost said no; you knew that this wouldn't be an acceptable seating arrangement in the cafeteria (or anywhere public, for that matter), but when his hands landed on your thighs, you nodded swiftly. His fingers curled around your skin, and you could feel every pulse of his heartbeat through his fingertips, poised as if he might spread your legs from where they were squeezed together between his own thighs.

Something hard and solid nudged at your core, and you couldn't help it when you leaned back into his chest, head tilting back to rest on his shoulder. A breathy moan tumbled from your lips, and your stomach fluttered when you felt his chest rumble with a chuckle.

"That quick, baby?" he whispered, his breath fanning over your neck. "You really are a sweet young thing, aren't ya," he teased, pressing his nose to the joint between your jaw and your neck, "fallin' apart for me already?" He rocked his hips forward, his bulge pressing harder against you, and it nearly sent you into a spiral.

You swallowed, your throat dry. The sounds of the movie seemed far away as you opened your eyes and looked at his beard, peppered with gray and scratching at your chin when he leaned over you. "Joel," you whispered, bringing your hands to cover his own on your thighs, "I-I want to know everything." You'd never meant anything more fervently, more desperately, than this.

If you'd known how addicting this could feel, being so close to him, feeling his hands on you, perhaps you would have been embarrassed at the way your hips began rubbing yourself on his lap, hoping for—you didn't even know what could be after this. You just knew that the way you felt was the most intense thing you'd felt in your entire life, and you wanted to keep feeling this way, as long as you could.

Joel tutted, squeezing his hands on your thighs. "Oh, look at you," he groaned, a deep, carnal noise that made your chest constrict, "you're a natural, doll." His lips brushed your shoulder, and he darted his tongue out to lick a small strip up your neck.

Your heart swelled with the praise, and it was all you could do not to squeeze your eyes shut. "Please," you begged quietly, as if someone might hear you.

"I know, baby, I know," he crooned, dark eyes locked onto your own as his hand crept closer—to your waistband—closer—unzipping your pants—closer...there.

Your hips lifted from his lap with the heady sensation of his fingers pressed to a bundle of nerves between your legs. "Joel—!" you squeaked.

You felt him smile against your cheek. "So wet," he murmured, "so slick for my fingers, baby." He began rubbing that spot in tight circles, a slow, torturous pace. "Let me know when you're gonna come, yeah?"

"When I..." you trailed off. You'd never...how would you know? "I don't..."

Joel hummed in your ear, rocking his hips again and releasing a guttural groan. "S'okay, pretty girl," he reassured you, "I'll be gentle. Lemme know when it feels like it's too much. "I've gotcha."

You were too far gone to doubt him. This was Joel. He wouldn't let you fall, as much as you felt like you were going to slide to the floor at the feeling of his hand coming up from your leg to caress your breast, rolling a nipple between his fingertips. A strangled mix between a cry and a moan left your lips, and with one more kiss to your brow paired with a quick swipe of his finger over your ever-sensitive bud—

Something gave way and you jerked your head back, digging into his shoulder. Your legs spasmed and you squeezed your hand over Joel's, holding his hand in place underneath your panties.

"Fuck, doll, just like that," he encouraged you. "Look at you, eyes rollin' back for me. Shakin' like a good girl." His hips tensed beneath you and you felt his chest shudder as he released a punishing moan. "Got me feelin' like a damn teenager, comin' in my jeans."

His fingers stilled, but his hand didn't move. Your legs slowly stopped shaking, and the solid mass beneath you was softening. You let out a sigh, your eyelids fluttering closed. Your cheeks were flushed, you could tell; but this time, it wasn't embarrassment that brought the warmth to your face.

"You okay?" he murmured, carefully removing his hands from their places on you. "Feel alright, darlin'?"

Your head turned, nestling into the crook of his neck. Nodding quietly, you shifted in his lap. "I...I didn't know it could be like that," you shivered.

Joel paused the video, the living room falling quiet around you. Swinging a hand under your legs and tugging you to a more comfortable position over his lap, he raised his fingers to his lips, glistening with the remnants of your desire. Your jaw slackened when you watched him open his mouth, lapping at the tips of his fingers.

"Trust me, doll," he said with a glint in his eye. You whimpered in anticipation as he reached to brush a strand of hair from your face. "I've got so much more to teach you."

tysm for reading! you made it to the end! part two is in the works posted!

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jjoongstar · 1 month

Text

𝑨𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑯𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔

➺pairing: hongjoong x afab!reader

➺genre: nsfw, pure filthy smut, slight humour at the end

➺wc: 1.6k

➺warnings: overstimulation, penetration, protective sex, choking, squirting, mirror sex, missionary, doggy, fingering, scratching, biting, marking, spanking (tell me if i miss any!)

➺synopsis: he fucks her too good & too much up to her limits :D

➺a/n: my first smut that I'm posting here, so sorry in advance, pls spare me😓

"again."

what? your head still in a daze while hongjoong ties off the used condom filled with his seed, tossing it away and he slips on a new one. your body is aching but looking down at hongjoong's girth, its still thick and throbbing. he pulls you by the ankle and inserts himself back in and you elicit a loud moan in surprise.

he grips your hips tightly and his thrusts into you are hard and needy. his eyes full of lust. he moans out your name out loud. along with praising you how good you made him feel. your pussy hugs his dick so well, like it was molded perfectly to fit him.

he knew you were close when he felt your pussy clenching around his dick. he moves in and out faster and you grip the bed sheets beside you and you came all over him. again. "fuck, baby, you feel good?" he slows down his movements before you nod simply at his words that could barely hear.

he continues on moving faster not letting you fully recover from your high. your legs shaking over the stimulation he gave you. he felt leans in closer to you burying his face at your neck. "I'm so close," he pants out, feeling his breath tickling your ear.

his last thrust made you jolt up a bit. you felt his body tense and his cum spurts out of his dick into the condom. you could still feel it inside you.

"god you're making me insane," he slips out the used condom and puts on a new one.

you look at up at him in disbelieve. he's right. he is insane. you've lost count how many rounds it went, how many orgasms you both had, how long you two had been going, even the time. what time is it now? who knows. not that he cares anyway.

he flips you over and grabs your hip pulling it upward. you have no energy left in you and you flop your head onto the mattress. all of your movements were guided fully by the man in charge.

spreading your legs a little wider, he slips himself back into your hole. even after all that, your pussy still feels tight to him. he moans out loud as he molest your ass making you feel back the arousal in you and lands his hands flat onto your skin making you yelped.

every time he went back and forth, drilling his thick cock into your dripping pussy, he spanks your ass cheeks. tills its red and tingling in pain. he loves to see you in this state. all fucked up as he fucks you from behind, leaving his handprints on your butt. you love it too. it felt so good every time he connects his hand to your skin, you moan out his name in pleasure, thanking him so much for it. it had your drooling, painting the bedsheet in splodges of a darker shade than its original colour.

you raise your hand weekly, trying to reach out to him from behind. the tingling feeling in your stomach builds up again. he notices the it and the way your legs are slightly twitching. "come together with me baby," he left his hand from your hips and makes its way to your head, tracing your spine before he grabs a fistful of your hair from your scalp. he tugs it back, gentle but firm. a final thrust from and you both came, but he didn't slow down. instead he went for a few fast thrust before pulling out, making you scream out his name. he puts you down, letting you lay on your side.

you were catching your breath, chest heave up and down, you felt so tired, your throat hurts, your back is in pain, your legs sore, heck, your whole body is aching. your eyes glued on hongjoong, as he gets up from bed and repeats the same process. you sigh in defeat and close your eyes shut upon seeing him rip another condom packet. here we go again.

your eyes shot open when you were dragged by him to the edge of the bed, in front of the tall body mirror standing against the wall. he sits down at the edge and lifts you off for a while then pushes yourself on his still hard dick. he kisses your shoulder blade when you whimpers at him. reassuring you that its fine.

"be a good girl for me, love," he spreads your legs wider by his leg and hooks each of them to his, locking you in place.

his hip movements were slow as he just wants to grind himself with his dick in you. his hand moves around touching every single part of your body. he squeezes both of you breast making you let out a long moan. he fondles them roughly enough making you feel a bit better from the constant ache.

he trails wet kisses all over your back and neck, biting, sucking, licking, marking. you felt like being branded by him at this point by all of the marks he left on your body. he moves his dominant hand to your pulsing wet pussy. he stripes down your fold collecting all the liquid that came out of you from the previous rounds with two of his fingers and he puts then in his mouth, savouring every single drop.

"fuck, you taste so good, babe," he lets out his fingers and grabs your jaw forcing you to face him as he kisses your lips. it wasn't rough, but sloppy and wet. his tongue dives into your mouth, exploring every corner. he pushes out the liquid in his mouth into yours. he wants you to taste yourself that was mix with the taste of his mouth. he pulls away when he felt your grip on his thigh, telling him you were out of breath. he looks at you and bites his lip, holding a smile back from himself. he loves the way you look right now. the way your eyes bore into his, half lidded, your hazy mind, your swollen lips, the string of saliva connecting your both lips, and your overall disheveled, fucked out state.

while you were distracted by his beautiful eyes, his well sculpture nose, his gorgeous face, he used the same hand from before and rubs your swollen clit. back and forth, up and down, side to side. every movement made you feel like electricity flowing into your body. it didn't take long for you to cum on his fingers. you cry out for his name and arch your bare back against his chest when he didn't let you ride out your high and instead moves faster.

your legs getting numb you can't feel your toes anymore, you grab onto his thighs so firm, digging your nails deep, knowing it'll leave indents and you pull your nails, scratching his plump bare thighs, it hurts like its bleeding, and he loves it so much, be groans into your ear. you feel a tight knot swirling inside your lower abdomen and you cry your lungs out when the feeling went out of your pussy.

"shit, that's so hot, look at you!" he exclaims and you look at him through the mirror, you gasped in shock with your view. you just squirted and the liquid was everywhere. the floor, hongjoong's hands, his legs, the mirror even. you slump back, resting your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes trying to calm yourself.

but obviously hongjoong is not having it as you felt his dick twitch inside you. he lifts you off and lays you on you back in the middle of the bed. the air in the bedroom smell nothing else but sex. your whole body felt sticky, smeared with all kind of juices.

"i haven't cum yet sweetheart," was all you heard before he made his way into you again.

"hongjoong please, let's stop for a bit-" you whine at him but he shuts you up by attaching his lips to yours. muffling every sound from you. after he devours you lips, leaving you in a trance, he lifts off your leg raising it over his shoulder and he starts drilling himself. again.

"h-hongjoong, wait!" he didn't wait, obviously. he wraps his hands around your throat, firmly enough to make you roll your eyes back.

"look at me when i fuck your brains out, baby," he orders you but his voice sounds like a blur to you. he grips your neck a bit tighter than before, shaking your face a bit, enough to bring your attention back at him and you moans out at the feeling, crying out for him.

but this time, you felt different. your whole body hissing in pain, your pussy aching, your head feels dizzy, you can't feel any of your limbs anymore and your vision went dark and your mind went out too.

"y/n?" hongjoong slows down his thrust and finally stopped when you didn't respond and your body went limp.

"Y-Y/N WAKE UP!!" he slaps your face a few times gently. he quickly pulled out when you gave him the same reaction.

he ran towards the bedside table, grabbing his phone, quickly unlocks it and towards the phone app.

"hongjoong? why...what's wrong?" the voice of the receiver croaks in a raspy voice.

"SEONGHWA! Y/N, S-SHE PASSED OUT!!"

"WHAT? HOW? WHAT DID YOU DO?!?"

"uhhh i kinda fuck her too good??"

"...."

"seonghwa??"

"how long...."

hongjoong pulls out the phone away from his ear, checking at the time and he lets out a small gasp. 4.07 am.

"hongjoong....SINCE WHEN?!" seonghwa notices the silence and speaks up first.

"since after we came back from dinner around 11...ish something??"

"YOU WENT ON FOR 5 HOURS NON STOP?!?!?"

dividers

taglist: @engentiny

can send an ask to be on the taglist <3

network: @othersideoutlawsnetwork

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yeonzzzn · 7 months

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Heeseung Jake and sunghoon foursome in the car or in the classroom of their school???

a foursome in the car with heejakehoon😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 i’m shaking thinking about it…

sunghoon would be underneath you with your back against his chest, dick twitching against the walls of your ass…his beautiful hands cupping your breasts, tightly squeezing them as his thumbs rubs over your nipples. his hips rolling back and forth, pushing his cock in and out slowly. he would nibble on your ear with his natural fangs, “being such a good girl for us,” he’d whisper, sending chills down your spine, “taking our cocks so good.”

heeseung would have one hand gripping your hip, his finger nails leaving marks on the skin as the other was between your legs, thumb slowly making circles against your clit with his dick following sunghoon’s thrusts in perfect motion, making you practically choke on jake’s dick in an attempt to gasp for air.

jake is groaning at the feeling of you choking around him, his hand in your hair forcefully pulling you off his cock to take a few deep breathes before he’s shoving his hard length back in your mouth, throwing his head back against the back of the car seat feeling your tongue wrap around his shaft as he bucked his hips against your lips.

all the windows would be be completely fogged over except for the hand prints of heeseung and jake from them slapping their hands against it to keep their balance and steady themselves from falling over on the pleasure your body was giving them.

“hmmm, so fucking tight,” heeseung moaned, slapping his hand against the back glass, hand sliding down it creating a streak before dropping and gripping ahold of the head rest, bucking his hips faster into you as he other hand circled your clit faster.

you moaned against jake’s cock at the new pace heeseung set, forcing sunghoon to buck his hips faster too, not being able to handle the movement of your body against him all because of how faster heeseung was pounding into your pussy. The vibrations of your moans and the way your tongue worked around jake’s dick made him a whining mess, “sh-shit baby,” his grip on your hair tightened, he free hand reaching above his head and slapping against the roof of the car, his head now hanging low as his eyes closed shut and brows furrowed, “I’m cumming, fuck I’m cumming,” his creamy cum shot to the back of your throat, your mouth milking him of every last drop.

“Shallow it,” jake demands, ripping his cock from your mouth, and you did, shoving your tongue out to prove it was shallowed whole, “good fucking girl, such a good slut, shallowing all jakey’s cum,”

with your mouth free of jake’s cock, heeseung and sunghoon wasted no more time and fucked into you harder and faster, making your hands grip tightly to the door above your and sunghoon’s head, wet and pornographic moans leaving your mouth.

“fuck yeah baby,” heeseung moaned, fucking into as if his life depended on it, “keep that little mouth open for me, wanna hear those pretty moans,” he was close to cumming. the pressure of sunghoon filling you up made you clench tighter around both their cocks, making heeseung’s head spin.

sunghoon was also losing himself, his own climax reaching ridiculously fast. he slid one of his hands down from your breasts, rubbing his index finger beside heeseung’s on your clit. you arched your back at the stimulation of their fingers against your sensitive bud, “seungie, hoonie,” you whined, “t-too much!”

all three boys chuckled, “make her cum,” jake said, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth, stroking his long hard length with his hand, the other still above him attracted to the roof, “I want to see her face when she cums,”

heeseung smirked, giving a nod to sunghoon, then both their fingers circled your clit harder and faster. you gasped at the sensation. the sound of their skin slapping against yours was the only other sound in the car besides everyone’s breathing and your moans.

“hmmm baby wanna cum?” heeseung cooed, his smirk growing all the wider at seeing you nod, “wanna cum on seungie’s cock? want to cum so hard your clenching down on seungie’s and hoonie’s cocks until we fill you whole?” you nodded once again, feeling the knot in your tummy about to snap.

and then it did.

you arched your back, pressing your shoulder into sunghoon’s chest as you came all over heeseung’s dick, clenching your pussy and ass tighter around them.

sunghoon couldn’t hold on any longer, one last hard thrust and his cum was spilling inside you, his hands squeezing your breasts, his moans in your ear as he released.

heeseung removed his fingers from your clit, both hands gripping the head rests in reach of him, rocking his hips as fast as he could, chasing after that sweet, sweet, sweet release. your pussy felt so fucking good to him, seeing stars as his cock twitched, signaling his breaking point. his thrusts got sloppy, knowing damn well the next thrust would be the last one.

strings of “fuck fuck fuck fuck,” left his lips as his seed spilled into your gummy walls, knuckles turning white at his grip on the head rests.

jake released his own gasped “fuck,” as he reached his second climax of the night, shooting his cum against your stomach.

heeseung and sunghoon both gasped as they pulled out of your holes, heeseung leaning himself against the door of the car, eyes wandering around the small space, seeing the headlights of the cars that passed them parked on the side of the road.

“I call dibs driving home and getting road head,” sunghoon chuckled, his hands squeezing your thighs, “wanna feel this pretty mouth wrapped around me,”

your eyes looked between the other two boys, seeing the cogwheels in their brains spinning, knowing they were thinking of the ways they’d dick you down on the drive home while your mouth worked on sunghoon’s cock.

#heeseunggie #jake bby #myiceprince #yeonzzzn writing #yeonzzzn asks #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #heejakehoon #enhypen #enhypen smut #heeseung x reader #sim jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #lee heeseung #park sunghoon #sim jake #heeseung #jake #sunghoon

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little-diable · 8 months

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Afraid - Dean Winchester (smut)

Y'all asked for some jealous!posessive!Dean, so who am I to deny that wish? I came across a Dean edit paired with the song "Afraid" by The Neighbourhood, I guess that set the mood. Honestly, it's just pwp, but I ain't sorry. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean is tired of watching men trying to chat (y/n) up wherever the brothers take her. Dean is tired of faking his disinterest in the reader. Dean is tired of holding back.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, choking, oral (m), car sex, but some fluff and a love confession

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (2.2k words)

The sound of her boots meeting the ground was drowned out by the music echoing through the bar and the chatter filling the air. She was working on the adrenaline still thumping through her veins, riled up by the hunt Dean and her had just finished, wiping their weapons clean before they found their way to this very bar, ready for some distraction before they left this town in the morning.

With a bright – yet awfully fake – smile glued to her lips, (y/n) made her way to the bartender, studying the man who was focused on the drinks he kept preparing. She was too concentrated on the game she was about to play with the guy, all too used to these moments, to notice the eyes of some other men on her frame, intently studying the woman’s body.

“Hi.” Her soft voice forced the bartender’s grey eyes to find hers, grinning at the smiling woman. He was handsome, with his bright, stormy eyes and the black hair he had gelled back, yet he was nowhere near as handsome as the green-eyed hunter she had been friends with for years by now. Dean fucking Winchester, the man who had an awfully confusing grasp on her body and soul, holding her heart in his hands, crushing it whenever he turned from her to find shelter in another woman’s bed.

“Hi, darlin’. What can I get for you?” Before (y/n) could speak her and Dean’s order, an unfamiliar voice spoke up from behind her.

“Give the lovely woman a few shots it’s on me.” Slowly (y/n) turned towards the man, eyes finding his greedy ones, trying to keep her disgust from finding its way to her features. A soft chuckle left her, hoping to distract the man for a few seconds, while she figured out a way out of this situation.

“Mhm, thank you, that’s very sweet.” (Y/n) tried to turn away from him, though without any luck, stopped by the hand finding its way to her waist.

“Not so fast, pretty. At least tell me your name.” A groan threatened to claw through (y/n), eyes fluttering in annoyance the man clearly mistook for shy flattery, making the smirk he wore on his thin lips grow.

“It’s Mandy. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my friend is waiting for me.” The man’s hand didn’t move, tightening its grip on her waist. With her lips forming a snarl, (y/n) was hellbent on fighting her way out of this, it wasn’t the first time a man tried to chat her up against her will, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, all too used to these uncomfortable situations. Though while her mind raced to find a snarky reply, she was gently though determinedly pulled away from the man.

“Hey, I was talking to her!” Her mind didn’t get the chance to concentrate on the man’s loud voice, distracted by the all-too-familiar scent forcing its way up her nose. For a second (y/n) allowed her eyes to flutter close, relaxing in Dean’s possessive grasp, concentrating on his scent, of the feeling of his muscles pressing against her frame, wordlessly telling her that he wouldn’t let her go.

“Well, now she’s done talking to you. Let’s go, baby, I want to get out of here.” The man got no chance to protest, forced to watch Dean guide (y/n) through the crowd and out into the cold evening. She inhaled a few breaths, wrapping her arms around herself the second Dean let go of her, searching the distance between them.

“Not that I don’t appreciate your help, but I would have managed just fine on my own, Dean.” He was walking a few steps ahead of her, coming to an abrupt stop the second she spoke the words. Dean turned towards her with dark eyes, features pulled into a hard frown, looking at (y/n) as if she was a supernatural being he was about to kill.

“I’m so fucking sick and tired of watching these men get their hands on you. Do you even know what seeing that does to me?” Dean’s voice carried an unfamiliar kind of anger, dripping with possessiveness, with jealousy. Her heart started racing in her chest, forcing heat to rise to her face, wondering where this was coming from. (Y/n) kept her gaze focused on Dean, eyebrows furrowed together as the seconds kept ticking by, trying to figure out what was going on inside his mind. “You know what, forget it.”

“Absolutely not. Talk to me, Dean, where is this coming from?” She reached for his hand before he could try to start walking once again, eyes drawn to hers like a moth drawn to any source of light. (Y/n) could tell that he was fighting an inner battle, tongue kissing his teeth, fingers forcing themselves closer to hers, interlacing them with his.

“I,” a deep, almost defeated exhale left Dean, wondering how to put his thoughts into words. But the second the sound of somebody stepping out of the bar found its way to the two, it was as if he was lured out of his trance, letting go of (y/n). “I can’t do this, not here.”

Dean started walking towards Baby without looking back, growling something under his breath (y/n) couldn’t pick up. With determination guiding her, she jogged towards him, forcing him to a halt in front of Baby once again, murmuring his name. The last thing she heard before Dean turned towards her, reaching for (y/n) to press her against Baby, was an angry “Fuck it” leaving the tall man.

Her gasp was swallowed by his lips finding hers, kissing her hungrily as if they had been parted from one another for years, dreaming of their shared kisses, clinging to bits and pieces of their memories. Both moaned in unison, allowing their tongues to meet, turning the kiss even more heated.

Slowly he parted from her, allowing the both of them to catch their breaths. His cold hands found their way to her warm cheeks, thumb stroking along her swollen lips as he pondered over his words. (Y/n) struggled to concentrate on anything but his touch, taken up by the feeling she had been desperate to feel for years, wondering if and how Dean would touch her.

“You’re mine, you always have been, and you always will be. I won’t share you, just the thought of it makes me sick.” Dean’s growled words shot heat to her core, walls clenching around nothing. Wordlessly she pulled him down for another kiss, needing to feel him close once again, not fully trusting that this wasn’t just a trick of her imagination. Dean pressed her even further against Baby, keeping her trapped to make her feel every inch of his body, groaning the second his growing bulge came in contact with her desperate heat. “Do you feel what you do to me? I should fuck you right here, for them to see that you’re mine, mine only.”

A whimper left (y/n) at his words, drawing a dangerous chuckle from Dean as he let go of her, giving her just enough space to find her way to the passenger seat. Her eyes didn’t dare part from his features, trying to soak up every second. She couldn’t stop her grin from widening as her hands began to move, finding his thigh before Dean could catch up on what she was trying to do. He shot her a warning look, teeth nibbling on his lower lip, but her hands kept moving, finding their way to his crotch, feeling his hardening cock strain against the fabric of his washed-out jeans.

“Sweetheart,” Dean choked on the word, struggling to keep his eyes focused on the road. (Y/n) didn’t speak up, she began to shift in her seat, leaning towards him to free his growing cock from the confines of his clothes. The groan that left Dean filled her with giddiness, spitting into her palms before she touched him for the first time, slowly stroking him. “Fuck, feels so good, been dreaming of this.”

Her soft chuckles forced a grin to widen on Dean’s lips, freezing the second he felt her warm breath clashing against his soft skin. Without another warning, she parted her lips, spitting onto his tip before she took him in her mouth. The groan that left Dean echoed through Baby, a sound that forced (y/n) to hum around him, making the sound vibrate on his skin.

Even though Dean tried to concentrate on the dark road ahead, he felt his concentration slipping, parking Baby on the side of the road before (y/n) realised what he was doing. With one hand getting tangled in her hair, Dean roughly pulled her off his cock and back in for a teeth-clashing kiss.

“Get in the backseat, I need to fuck you now.” The rough tone of Dean’s voice left (y/n) moaning, struggling to make her way to the backseat with her thoughts focused on the things Dean would do to her. He didn’t waste any time the second she found him hovering over her, hands pulling on her trousers and panties to expose her dripping cunt, groaning at the sight.

His calloused fingers touched her expertly, circling her pulsing bundle with just enough pressure to push her into another dimension. Within seconds Dean had turned her into a blabbering mess, choking on her words as he pushed two fingers into her tightness. He didn’t hold back, kept her pinned to the leather seat with his free hand finding her throat.

“You’re mine, your body belongs to me from now on.” For years she had imagined moments like this, wondering if she’d ever be fortunate enough to feel him this close, wondering how it must feel to have his hands on her. She could stay buried beneath him till the end of their time, allowing Dean to touch her as he pleased.

“Dean,” she whispered his name, unable to use any more strength with his hand choking her just the way she liked. “Fuck me, please.”

Dean stared down at her for a few seconds, nodding his head as he pulled away, reaching for his wallet to pull out a condom. Within moments he placed himself on top of (y/n), aligning his tip with her cunt. With their eyes holding contact, he pushed into her, groaning at the feeling of her walls fluttering around him.

Her lips parted at the feeling of Dean slowly pushing into her, allowing (y/n) to adjust to the unfamiliar sensation. Dean stared down at her, eyes growing a few shades darker at the sight of her pleasure drunken features, finding excitement in her moans. Only as she nodded her head, teeth buried in her lower lip, did he start a faster rhythm, set on pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck, Dean, feels so good.” One of his hands found its way back to her throat, holding onto her as he fucked her faster, deeper, set on making her remember this very night till their last moment together. The Impala moved with his every thrust, keeping them protected from any dangers waiting out in the dark, allowing the two lovers to give in to their every emotion.

“Been imagining this for years, but you feel even better than I thought, fuck, it’s like you were made for me, sweetheart.” (Y/n) couldn’t reply, could only clench around him with her eyes squeezed shut and her fingernails leaving crescent shapes on his neck. She held onto him as if he was about to disappear, about to leave her behind – even though she very well knew that Dean would never let go of her, forever holding her close.

The second Dean tightened his grip on her throat, she found herself looking up at him, allowing heat to rise in her system as she picked up on the love swimming in his pupils. Dean tilted his head down to press a kiss to her lips, momentarily distracting her from the feeling of his cock nudging her swollen spot, leaving her body tingling.

“Touch yourself for me, baby.” The simple command rolled off Dean’s tongue, filling the Impala with another wave of heat to crawl up her body. With one arm slung around his neck, the other found its way down her frame, fingers rubbing her clit. Dean could swear that he was finally in heaven, that he had finally found his peace with her buried beneath him, finally his to love.

(Y/n) could only whisper Dean’s name, eyes once again falling shut as she came. He fucked her through her high, staring down at her with his lips pulled into a smirk. It took Dean a few more moments before he gave in, letting a string of curses roll off his tongue.

“I love you, sweetheart.” His words made tears well up in (y/n)’s eyes, pulling him down for one last kiss before she repeated the three loving words.

#Dean Winchester smut #Dean Winchester x reader #Dean Winchester imagine #supernatural smut

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sinning-23 · 1 month

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Backseat Pillow Princess (Pt.2)

And by popular demand (and because ei couldn't just leave it how I had it and planned on making a part 2 anyway) I BRING YOU PT.2! I really tried to conjure of some kinky freak nasty shit in this y'all so uhhh just be dually noted that I really tried my best with this.

Warnings: tag-team, p in v, multiple rounds, refractory period? we don't know her, creampie, unprotected, biting, choking, eiffel tower in a fucking car dude it gets wicked, nipple play, edging, degrading, praise, light banter, how did we end up outside the gd car????, spit as lube

Hope yall enjoy lol the endingit idk ill probably tweak it later yall pls dotn shame me i was starting to feel bad for makingyall wait so long!

Enjoy~

PT.1 HERE

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It all happens so fast that you can hardly register the clash of teeth and tongue. You can feel the growl that rises up his throat and past his lips on your own, the taste metallic but sweet.

You’re breathless, Wade attacking your neck with the same speed and intensity. Your senses are overwhelmed, body riding a 9-hour (give or take) high.

"You are a fucking sicko, you’re soaked through the leather." Logan grunts, tugging your lower lip with his canines,

"Forget that, look at her tits," Wade gasps, looking at the little bumps your hardened nipples made through the fabric.

Part of you should feel embarrassed but you can’t seem to function when there're two separate mouths and two pairs of hands adorning your body. If your uniform wasn't torn to shreds, it definitely was now, a familiar set of claws slicing latex leather away from your flesh easily.

"Great now what am I supposed to wear when this is over?! At least be a little nice to me!" You huff, peeling the shredded fabric away before attacking the older man before you.

A bit surprised, Logan leans back against the door, your chest flush against him as your breaths mix, hot and heavy in the space. You can feel Wade shift, large hands at your hips with your ass against his pelvis. Finding Logan’s zipper was easy, your fingertips tugging at it as you caught his lower lip between your teeth.

"C'mon let's make this fair. I’m the only one showing some skin.” You purr, pulling the little piece of metal down to reveal tanned, toned abs. The thin sheen of sweat and blood makes them glisten.

You practically drool, the sight of them in the moonlight now seared into your brain.

"Jesus you're built like a brick fucking wall-" You gasp, hesitating to touch before running your hands down Logan's chest, then stomach.

"Like a godddamn marble sculpture," Wade adds, taking his chance to admiring the man beneath the both of you.

He chuckles a bit, shrugging his sleeves off before connecting your lips again. It’s shot though, mostly because you can’t help but look at him.

“Nuh uh, lemme see you.” You command, pushing him back against the door.

He groans, your lip tucking beteeen your teeth as you presses kisses to his pulse, trailing downward as his neck flexed perfectly with the rest of his torso and stomach.

“Gorgeous.” You mumble, finally making your way down to his v-line before licking a stripe right back towards, ending it with a faint bite.

“Shame I can’t mark you up how I want, you’ll just heal it.” You sigh, thumbs tracing Logan’s belt now.

You grind down, a heavy, “oh fuck,” leaving your lips as Wade chuckles from behind you. Speaking of which, he had managed to pull your uniform a little past your ass, his hands squeezing the flesh there.

Of course you can’t help but tilt your head back, accepting sloppy open-mouth kisses from the mercenary when he cups your pussy from behind. Purposefully dragging his middle finger between your folds, his mouth swallows up your whimpers, a grin ever present over the lower half of his scarred face.

"Shit you weren't lying, she is soaked." Wade huffs, licking a stipe up your neck, his chest flush against your back

"You know I had to find a way to get your attention, I was starting to feel left out?" Wade taunts, his ring and middle finger two-knuckles deep in you, the squelching echoing.

Logan, eager to please makes a point to suck a mouthful of your tits, his canines grazing over them. He growls, breathing hot against your skin. His free hand cups your other, thumb swiping over your nipple as your palm presses down against his bulge.

"You gonna take it out or just keep pushing on it?" Logan grumbles, hips rolling into you.

It's hard to think, pleasure flooding your senses as you try your hand at helping his length spring free. Fuck, he's rock hard. And soon enough it's in your hand, hard, hot, and dripping with precum.

If you had to give an example of a photogenic dick, his would be at the top of your list. It's got a slight upward bend, the tip slightly tanned as beads of precum rolled down the side. And right beside that slick train that oozes downward, is a thick vein adorned by a smaller one. Your mouth waters, tongue lulling out of your mouth to taste it.

You're stopped, however, when Wade grips your hair, reminding you that HE is the one with his fingers in you, making your pussy drool with each thrust.

You pause, squeezing the base of Logan's dick in response, just to have the male sigh heavily under you.

"Almost lost your manners huh? That's okay I'll help you." Wade announces, seeing the brief irritation flash behind Logan's hazel eyes.

"You ask when you want something," Wade huffs, tone low and dangerous.

You swallow hard, taking a deep breath through your nose before using your thumb to press down on the tip.

"Please?" You whimper, mouth watering now, needing nothing more than to wrap your lips around his length.

"Please what, honey?" Logan encourages, using his thumb to push past your kiss-bitten lips and press down on your tongue, the saliva dripping down his palm and forearm.

"Please let me suck it." You finish, a satisfied grin finally filling Logan's features.

He nods his head in your direction, his fist at the base as you roll your tongue out your mouth, engulfing the tip, tasting the bittersweet precum slide down your throat. He groans, releasing his hand the farther down you go.

You thank the gods above for your almost nonexistent gag reflex, because once you got a feel for just how he settled in your mouth,you wasted to time getting him acclimated to your throat.

"Fuckkkk that's it, honey, swallow." He grunts, flashing those pretty canines as you do exactly what he says, the flex of your throat making his hand shoot to your head.

Between the feeling of you gulping Logan down and Wade's fingers still stretching you out, you're bound to reach your peak at any minute now. And then you feel it.

Empty for a moment, and finally...

"What, you didn't think I was getting this pussy ready for nothing did you?" Wade chuckles, your spine shivering when his tip slid between your aching wetness.

Arching more, Wade grabs a nice handful of the flesh between your hips and your ass, easily filling your needy cunt as you lift your head, gasping in response to the stretch. A sign of saliva connects your lower lip to the slightly reddened tip of Logan's cock. All you can do is whimper, bracing yourself as Wade thrusts into you, pace quick and calculated.

"F-uck!' You hum, each thrust breakign up the syllabus

Your hands scrath at Logan's chest, using him as an anchor to keep yourself from cumming too quickly. He only chuckles, tugging your hair to place a bruising kiss on your lips, his free hand using your saliva to pick up where you'd left off.

"Squeezing, fuck you're tight." Wade huffs, teeth sinking into your shoulder as Logan's lips swallow up your painfully pleasured whine.

"Close, so close, need it" Is all you can muster up, your hips now meeting his in an attempt to speed the process up.

And sure enough, the knot that had worked its way into your core finally snaps, your strangled moans filling up and pouring out the Honda, your head throwing itself back, as you ride out the high. All you can hear are praises and encouragement from behind and in front of you, all of which are fading in and out as your ears ring.

'Thats it'

'C'mon honey give it to me'

'Good fucking girl'

'So wet holy shit'

'Look how fuckin pretty you are'

'That arch, jesus christ'

"Sooo good, oh fuck yes." You whine, tucking your lower lip between your teeth.

Once your eyes manage to flicker back open, you're met with the prettiest view, and you gasp at the sight, already feeling yourself ready for another round.

Thee he was, eyes screwed shut, brows creasing as his chest rises and falls in time with his fist, which was now dripping with thick, silky looking ropes of cum. His jaw is clenched, a growl bubbling past his lips as you reach your hand down to help guide him, the substance coating your fingertips.

"You look so pretty when you cum." You hum, then grabbing his jaw to give another forecefull yet intimate kiss, your tongues slipping past one another.

“My turn,” Logan growls, pulling the door open in one swift movement before tugging your body outside the car.

You gasp, legs feeling more like jelly after Wade had already turned your insides to mush.

You wobble a bit, using the edge of the door to steady yourself before you’re stuffed full again. An overstimulated moan forces its its way out of you. He feels even better inside than in your palm. And yet, he doesn’t move, the sound of Logan’s hollow, shaky breaths mere centimetres from your ear.

“Oh honey.” He groans, his hips moving just to slam back into you, a pleasured yelp leaving your lips in response.

“Can hardly take it, look at you fucking shaking.” He chuckles, sinking his teeth into your shoulder, your head falling foreward as you’re overwhelmed with so many different feelings. The pain from the fight mixed with the pleasure from his strokes and the previous orgasm.

“Don’t- oh Fuckk. Don’t patronize me-.” You whimper, gripping the edge of the door for dear life, the smack of his pelvis to your ass loud and rhythmic.

As if you weren’t already fucked out, Wade managed to scoot riiiiight in front of you, just enough so that his cock is resting against your cheek, and god does your mouth water.

“Let’s keep you busy, huh sweetie?” Wade hums, his tip pressing against your glossy lower lip.

You’re eager to accept, letting your tongue roll around the head before taking as much of him as you can. Every slight thrust of his hips pushed him further and further down your throat, alive dripping down your chin and onto the torn, blood-stained seats below.

It doesn’t take long before you’re right back to square one, legs trembling as your labored breaths quicken in pace.

“Ohhh fuck, squeezing. You’re about to cum arent you honey?” Logan chuckles, squeezing the flesh of your hip before landing a brutal smack to your ass.

He smirks at the sight of the recoil, and doesn’t it again, each smack leaving a nice shade of red. You don’t even have a chance to warn him before you cum, the blissful feeling making you shudder, throat coated with sticky release as Wade tangles his fingers in your scalp.

What you weren’t expecting, was for your release to trickle down your thighs, each thrust only making your squelch more and more. The familiar twinge of overstimulation ravages your senses as you swallow down Wade’s release.

And unfortunately, you’re empty again, peeking over your shoulder just to see Logan finishing on the perfect curve of your back. The pearly beads of cum rolling down your ass and up your spine.

There’s a few beats of silence, paired with the laibored breathes or three violent and fucked out regenerarive assholes.

But of course, Wades specially is breaking silence.

“Hey how come you didn’t squirt for me?” He huffs in faux disappointment.

You can practically hear Logan roll his eyes, whom of which had made a point to massage where he had hit earlier.

“Please shut the fuck up.” Logan huffs, shuffling around the car to either A: find something to clean you up with or B: something for you to wear.

Either way, you're beyond fucked out, the previous tension finally dying down as you're bathed in moonlight. It takes a little effort from the two males but they successfully lean you against the middle console.

Lucky for you, there just so happened to be an extra set of clothes hidden in the trunk most likely belonging to the variant you got this stupid car from anyway.

Meh, I think missing clothes will be the least of his worries considering this piece of shit car is absolutely thrashed...

And now tainted with spit and cum-

Tag list: @awoodsysimp411 @solheartz @brucebannerswifey @oscarissac2099 @yourlocalhot-simp @of-daisies-and-dandelions @peachybaby255 @bby-pinky-pink @mimi786 @bontensbabygirl @jupiterlvr @silverloveless @saturnhas82moons @zeeader @queermaxwooo @turtlefordestiel @dumpster-hellfire @kultofkorii @mxtaurus @bumblebeebutter @buryth3hatchet @9iavolo @speedybeta @myersobsessed

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velarisdusk · 2 months

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Thawing Boundaries

Hockey AU | Azriel x Reader x Rhysand

Series Masterlist Part 1 <- ✦.⁺.✦.⁺.✦ -> Part 3 - Melted Resolve

word count: 11.7k

content: there's so much in this one i'm bound to miss a few [ explicit sexual content, PIV (protected, a shocker for me i know), rough sex, oral sex (f receiving), voyeuristic elements, dirty talk, degredation, biting/marking, choking, light slapping, public sex (locker room setting), threesome, dominance/submission, infidelity | forced proximity, emotional conflict, dub-con (but reader does want it i promise), injury mention, strong language, and (very light) emotional manipulation and guilt-tripping ]

summary: After tension from a failed move at practice leads to a teammate's injury, you and Azriel unexpectedly meet in the locker room. As you share a heated moment, a surprise arrival heightens the stakes, leading to a steamy, forbidden encounter that leaves you questioning your choices and their consequences.

author's note: AAAAAAAAA? tysm for all the love on Ice Cold Jealousy, this was so fun to write i hope yall like it >;) i might've gone too hard on the dirty talk depending on the type of person you are but idc it's hot OH and i PROMISE these wont all take place in the locker room lmfao, it's just where the plot took me. also, no dp dont get your hopes up.

On the ice, chaos reigns. The game unfolds at breakneck speed, the puck zipping from stick to stick, its path unpredictable. Players shift positions in the blink of an eye, changing possession in heartbeats. Their movements are a blur of speed and precision, leaving you struggling to keep up with the rapid-fire action.

With 15 seconds left, the Golden Spring Griffins were up 3-2. There was no need to score again — they just had to keep possession. A bunch of show-offs…

And right there was the proof.

A pass from one of their wingers to the other, cutting it mighty close to the Snowvale Sentinels’ defensive line. He rode it along the left side of the rink for about ten feet before an abrupt 180; clockwise, getting up close and personal with the defenseman who’d chased him down the whole play. The defenseman struck his stick down between the other player and the puck, expecting him to double back around.

Everyone expected him to double back around.

But there he was — Tamlin, you believed was his name — skating backward for a second, letting the momentum carry him along his path. And he finished out his clockwise turn. Turn back down the ice? Not a chance. It was the perfect opportunity for a spin-o-rama. What a silly name for such a calculated move. What he did next had the arena and fans watching from everywhere on their feet.

It was common practice to pass after a spin-o-rama, the maneuver simply meant to disorient any nearby opposition if a player was ever in a tough spot. Whoever he passed to would be expected to, as quickly as possible, either go for the shot or pass to someone who could. The downside was that this not only gave the opposing team time to figure out what was happening but to adjust accordingly as well.

So Tamlin didn’t give them that chance.

Immediately after coming out of his spin, he brought his stick back, and in a flash, thrust it forward. You could’ve sworn you heard the blade hit the ice just before the puck, and—

Red light. Goal.

Buzzer. That’s game.

A spin-o-rama, a risky maneuver as is, followed by a slapshot, one of the strongest but least accurate shots, as you’d heard Cassian remind his team countless times over the years.

It was all so fast.

You focus on his footwork throughout the turn, absorbing every detail.

Again, you watch, slower this time, and notice the precise angle of the blade.

Looking up, you see Tarquin attempting the very same move, Cassian standing in as an opposing player. You tap your phone screen, pausing the ESPN stream of last night’s game. You’d gotten your fill of it last night. Lifting the soup spoon from the pot to your lips, you’d very nearly burnt yourself after how badly you’d jumped at Cassian’s exaggerated gasp at the television. For what had to have been at least an hour following, you were subject to the full-volume gushes and shouts of every last one of the Vipers during their group FaceTime. They were playing the Griffins in a couple of weeks. Though they didn’t have a particularly bitter history, their rivalry always had a bit of an edge to it.

It made sense that during practice today, Cassian was on their asses more than usual. The priority for the next couple of days was to teach Tarquin and Rhysand the maneuver (while trying to master it himself), to then teach the others how to counter it.

Practice ended over half an hour ago, but they still had some time on the ice before Phil the Zamboni Guy came out to resurface it. He was cool, if a bit grouchy-looking.

“Fuck!”

He was fine regarding the first half of the move, but coming out of the spin, none of his slapshots made it into the net. Hell — none of them made it past Cassian.

“Again,” he said, firmly but coolly. In response, Tarquin wordlessly skated back to his starting position down ice, head lazily flopped back and arms loose by his sides.

“Where’s Rhys? Isn’t he supposed to be here too?” Tarquin groaned, shifting back into proper stance.

“Rhysie’s got a little date tonight,” you could hear the smirk in your boyfriend’s voice, followed by a sound of exaggerated, definitely insincere, enthusiasm from Tarquin.

Your phone buzzes, a text from Mor.

Karaoke tn?

Truly, you had plans. Plans to stay home and watch bad TLC shows with a large bottle of chilled wine. But really, how bad would it be? You’d be drinking either way. Karaoke is not a sober activity.

uhh

where at?

After a few moments, another buzz, a text with an address, followed by a “Pleaseeeee (y/n), it’s so fun when you come :( I need someone to debrief and shit talk with after.” You roll your eyes with a small snort. Tapping on the address link, the map opens to show you it’s a nice little spot downtown, hopefully better than the sketchy karaoke place you’d followed her to last time.

sure why n-

Your screen goes black. You sigh, realizing you’ve drained your battery watching replays and scrolling through socials during the long practice session.

Bringing your gaze back up, you notice the palpable frustration radiating from both men. You’ve never seen Tarquin so angry during practice; things usually came quite easily to him. When his next slapshot makes it past Cassian but bounces off the crossbar, you’re stunned. Even more shocking is the feral growl that echoes throughout the arena. You watch, astonished, as he violently hurls his helmet onto the ice. He skates off, fuming, before storming off down the hall. To cool down, you presume.

Cassian skates over to you, and you meet him at the players’ bench to avoid talking through the glass.

“That move is gonna give us all hell,” Cassian sighs, removing his helmet and running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair.

You nod sympathetically. “It looked tricky. Tarquin seemed pretty frustrated,” you say, stating the obvious. You both share a knowing smile.

“Yeah… But we’ll get it down,” he says, determination creeping into his voice. “Can’t take as long as the backhand saucer pass with Eris. Remember how many times he nearly took Az’s head off before he got it right?”

You chuckle a bit at the memory. He’d gotten the pass down fairly quickly. The issue was applying it. They’d spend about a week of practice setting up different game situations for him to practice the move.

Azriel got hit with the puck several times.

“You look good out there,” you told him with a coy smile.

“When do I not?”

“When you’re being a narcissist,” you scoff. A blatant lie; he knew you liked your men cocky.

Cassian leans closer, a roguish grin spreading across his face. “Narcissist? Please. It’s not narcissism if it’s true.” He winks, then adds in a lower voice, “Besides, I seem to recall you enjoying my… confidence quite thoroughly last night.”

You roll your eyes but can’t suppress a smile. “And here I thought your ego couldn’t get any bigger. Guess I’ll have to find a way to take you down a peg or two later.”

Cassian leans against the boards, his grin widening. “Is that a promise or a threat?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you tease, mirroring his posture.

He relents, shaking his head with a chuckle. “You’re something else, babe, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told,” you reply with a wink. “Though usually by guys who can’t keep up.”

“Oh, I think I manage just fine,” Cassian counters, a glint in his eye.

You’re about to respond when his stomach lets out an audible growl. He looks down, slightly embarrassed, and you both chuckle, the moment lightening.

Cassian says, rubbing the back of his neck, “What are you thinking for dinner tonight?”

“Oh, actually,” you start, “I’m going to karaoke with Mor. And some of her friends, I think? I’ll grab something while I’m out.”

Cassian nods, “Sounds fun. Tell Mor I said hi.”

“My phone died while I was texting her. Mind if I use yours to let her know?”

“Sure thing,” Cassian replies, reaching over the wall for his duffel.

Suddenly, the sharp sounds of blades scraping ice cuts through the air. You both turn to see Tarquin charging full speed with the puck toward center ice. His helmet’s off, hair windswept, determination etched on his features. You can’t help but admire the raw athleticism on display as he turns his back to the goal, his footwork mirroring Tamlin’s from the video.

You inhale sharply. As he initiates the spin, his blade catches the edge of the puck instead of gliding past it. In a split second, his ankle twists at a sickening angle. His body, still carrying the momentum of the spin, topples sideways. You watch in horror as Tarquin crashes onto the ice, a cry of pain echoing through the arena.

Tarquin clutches his ankle, his features twisted in distress. Cassian immediately rushes towards him. You follow, carefully stepping onto the ice, your shoes sliding slightly as you try to keep your balance. As you near, you hear Rhysand’s voice from the direction of the locker room. “What happened?” he shouts, running towards the scene.

Rhysand, more sure-footed, reaches you first. As you slip slightly on the ice, his hand finds your lower back, the other on your shoulder, steadying you as he moves swiftly by. He slides to his knees the last few feet, joining Cassian at Tarquin’s side. You follow, more cautiously, moments later.

“You gotta let me get a look at it bro,” Cassian tells him, face grim as he gently probes at Tarquin’s ankle. He moves his hand, and Cassian carefully unlaces Tarquin’s skate. The process is slow, each tug causing him to wince. His eyes, usually so bright, are now clouded with pain, making your heart ache a little at the sight. When Cassian finally eases the skate off, you all grimace. It’s silent save for the breath you suck in through your teeth. The two men kneeling over Tarquin shoot you a look, and you mouth a small “sorry”. How were you supposed to know they were trying to keep calm? It’s not like Tarquin was some fragile rookie who couldn’t handle it.

“I don’t think it’s broken,” Tarquin tells them, jaw clenching and nostrils flaring a bit in pain when Cassian tries to move his ankle. “Probably just a sprain, right?”

His ankle is already swelling, an angry red color blooming across the skin. The area around the bone looks puffy and distorted.

“Yeah… Yeah, probably—help me get him to my truck,” Cassian says to Rhysand, his voice tense with worry. With Cassian supporting his legs and Rhysand at his shoulders, Tarquin cradles his ankle as they lift him. It’s a bit awkward with only one of them in skates but they manage.

As they carry him towards the exit, Tarquin calls out to you, his voice strained with pain. “(Y/N)! Can you grab my phone from my locker? 1418, combination’s 19-21-13.”

“Got it,” you reply assertively, already turned away. You call back to Cassian, “Just go, I’ll meet you there!”

You hurry down the hallway, your mind racing faster than your feet. The image of Tarquin’s swollen ankle flashes in your mind, making you cringe. How bad was it really? A sprain could mean a few weeks of recovery, but if it was fractured or worse…

As you near the locker room, you force yourself to focus. 1418, 19-21-13. You repeat the numbers in your head, determined not to forget them in your rush.

The quiet empty corridor feels eerie after the chaos on the ice. You find yourself wondering how Tarquin is holding up, if he’s in much pain. A pang of sympathy hits you — you’ve seen how passionate he is about the game, how hard he pushes himself. Memories of his intense focus during practices, the way his muscles flex as he glides across the ice, his infectious smile, the droplets of water trailing down his chest after a shower…

You quickly push those thoughts aside, feeling a mix of guilt and a confusing thrill at the unbidden images.

Reaching the locker room door, you push it open without hesitation, your eyes already scanning for locker 1418.

You spot it quickly enough, your fingers flying over the combination lock. 19-21-13. The locker swings open with a metallic creak. You rummage through the contents, pushing aside gym clothes and equipment until your hand closes around the familiar shape of a phone.

As you’re about to shut the locker and race back to your car, something catches your eye. Pinned to the inside of the door is a Polaroid — one you took at the team’s annual log cabin retreat last year. The guys are shirtless, grinning at the camera, their arms slung around each other’s shoulders. Cassian stands in the middle, all flexed biceps and confidence, Rhysand to his right and Tarquin on his left with matching, easygoing smiles that you’ve internally swooned at more than once. Azriel, always a bit more reserved than the others, stands slightly behind them, his eyes soft with a rare moment of unguarded joy. Helion and Eris flank the group, their expressions reflecting a mix of mischief and amusement. That was moments before they’d picked Cassian up and thrown him into the lake. You can’t help but smile, remembering the weekend’s camaraderie and the close quarters, the obstacle course that left you all covered in mud and laughing, the impromptu swimming races in the lake, and the countless moments of playful teasing. The cabin’s single bathroom had led to more than a few flustered encounters. You’d lost count of how many times you’d rounded the corner, only to collide with one of the guys fresh from the shower, hair dripping, towel barely clinging to their hips. Each of them had caught you off guard at least once over the years, leaving you to save face and will yourself not to stare.

Your reminiscing is abruptly cut short by a strained sound echoing through the room. You freeze, suddenly aware of the steady hiss of running water. How long have the showers been on? You were so focused on finding the phone, you hadn’t even noticed… Another noise like the last, this one a bit louder.

Concern creeps in as you wonder if someone else has gotten hurt. First Tarquin, now this? What is it with today? Cautiously, you move towards the showers, ears straining for any more sounds. The rush of water grows louder as you approach. Only the stall at the far end, against the back wall, is running. You notice a small gap between the curtain and the wall, and before you can stop yourself, your eyes are drawn to it.

Through the narrow space, you catch a glimpse of Azriel. His back is turned, muscles tense, shoulders slightly hunched, his head bowed. There’s a rhythmic quality to his movements that takes you a moment to comprehend. When realization dawns, you feel heat rush to your face.

You know you should leave, give him privacy, but you find yourself frozen in place. The steam seems to thicken the air around you, making it harder to breathe. Suddenly you’re acutely aware of your quickening pulse and the warmth spreading through your body.

Azriel’s back muscles ripple with each movement, the water cascading down his tanned skin, highlighting every ridge and contour. His left hand is splayed flat against the wall for support, fingers flexing slightly every now and then. The muscles in his arm contract and release, contract and release. His right hand, lower and out of view, works in a steady, practiced motion.

You can’t tear your eyes away from the interplay of muscles across his shoulders and back. His wet hair clings to his neck, droplets trailing down to join the rivulets streaming along his spine. Your gaze travels further downward, following the water’s path over the powerful curve of his glutes, the firm muscles clenching with each movement. His legs, strong and slightly apart for balance, show every shift in weight and tension, every flex and release.

The sight is intoxicating. A flush creeps up your neck, a reaction that’s as involuntary as it is intense. Azriel lets out a low, throaty sound of pleasure, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You’re rooted to the spot, every sense heightened. The steam swirls around you, seemingly thickening the air, making it harder to breathe. The sound of water rushing fills your ears, drowning out rational thought. You can almost feel the heat radiating from his body, the sheer presence of him a magnet pulling you closer.

Suddenly, Azriel’s movements still, and you notice the subtle tension in his muscles. He turns his head slightly, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his profile. For a moment, you hope he hasn’t seen you, but then his eyes lock onto yours through the small gap. His gaze is intense, piercing, and you can see the realization dawning in his expression.

You feel your heart stop, your breath hitching in your throat. The room seems to shrink around you, the air heavy all of a sudden. Azriel’s lips curl into a slow, knowing smile, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Didn’t expect company,” he says, voice low and husky, cutting through the sound of the shower like a knife.

You stumble back a step, heat flooding your face. “I— Fuck, I’m sorry,” you push out, unable to tear your eyes away from him. From those eyes. He doesn’t move, just continues to watch you, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement.

You finally force yourself to move, turning quickly and beelining for the door. “I didn’t mean to— I wasn’t trying to—” you stammer over your shoulder, your heart racing. You reach for the door handle and tug, but it doesn’t budge. Panic flares as you yank harder, but it’s stuck. You slide Tarquin’s phone into your jacket pocket to use both hands.

“Seriously?” you mutter under your breath, trying not to think about what Azriel must be thinking of you right now.

You hear the sound of footsteps approaching. Your pulse quickens as you keep tugging on the door handle. “You don’t have to pretend it’s locked if you wanna stay in here with me, y’know,” Azriel’s voice comes from behind you, closer now.

You glance back to see him walking towards you, a towel in hand, drying his forearms and hands. The towel barely preserves his modesty, exposing everything from his muscular thighs to the sharp cut of his hip bones and a tantalizing glimpse of his V-line. He’s casual, almost nonchalant, but his eyes never leave yours, dark with amusement and something more.

“I was—” you start, but he cuts you off, raising a brow.

“Enjoying the show?” he asks, voice smooth and teasing.

You manage to arch a brow as well, trying to maintain some of your dignity as you respond, “Didn’t realize you were putting on a performance.”

Azriel chuckles, a deep, rich sound. “For you, (y/n)? I’d put on a private performance anytime.”

You feel your face start to heat up again, but you keep your composure. “How generous of you.”

He grins, finally wrapping the towel around his waist, the movement slow and deliberate. It takes everything in you to keep your gaze from traveling downward. “I aim to please,” he says.

You gesture to the door with your arm. “Since you’re so helpful, how about getting this door open?”

Azriel steps closer, lightly brushing his fingers against your arm as he moves you gently aside. “Let’s see what we have here,” he murmurs, his touch making its way to your waist and lingering a moment longer than necessary.

He gives the handle a firm tug. It doesn’t budge for him either. After a few more tries, he furrows his brows at it, as if it’ll give him an answer. “You weren’t kidding…”

“Shocking, I know,” you reply, rolling your eyes.

As he continues trying the door, you can’t help but be captivated by the muscles rippling in his arms, each sinew flexing with effort. Your eyes wander to the brutal scars crisscrossing his hands, remnants of a fateful game well before your time with the team. But you can’t help but imagine how those roughened fingers would feel inside you. The thought has you biting your lip to keep from sighing.

Azriel’s movements falter, and he glances back at you, a smirk playing on his lips. You quickly divert your eyes, feeling the intensity of his gaze. His smirk widens as he steps closer, his presence overwhelming. He places a hand on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing the side of your neck gently before his grip tightens, almost possessively. “Catch your attention?” His voice drops to a whisper, the rasp sending jolts of arousal through you.

“Come on, Az…” you murmur weakly, turning your head away from him. His hand moves from your shoulder to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing your cheek.

“You think I don’t see the way you look at me?” he asks, head cocked as he leans in to whisper in your ear. “You can never keep your eyes off of me for long, you make it so obvious.”

Your breath hitches as his fingers trail down your arm, sending a chill through your body. He leans in even closer, his lips almost grazing your skin. “Are you imagining what I could do for you that he can’t? Because I think about it more than I care to admit,” he continues, his voice a low rumble.

Cass.

Your mind screams his name, but your body is rooted to the spot. Cassian is waiting for you, the urgency of the situation pulling at you like a lifeline. Yet here you stand, trapped in Azriel’s intoxicating presence, the steam in the air persistent.

“You look tense, (y/n)” Azriel pulls back, his voice low and smooth, a dark melody that raises goosebumps across your skin. His hand moves to your waist, fingers tracing the curve of your hip over your skirt. “Is it because of Cass?”

You swallow hard, trying to find your voice. “Azriel. I need to go. He’s waiting for me.”

Azriel’s lips curl into a knowing smile as his hand slides lower, toying with the hem of your skirt. “Is he?” he asks, his tone teasing.

Your breath catches as his fingers dip beneath the hem, just enough to tease, “Az, please,” you murmur, though the conviction in your voice is waning.

“Please what?” Azriel’s hand moves with slow, deliberate intent, his touch both tender and possessive. “Please stop? Or please don’t stop?”

Your mind is a whirlwind as his touch makes your pulse race. “Cassian,” you whisper, almost a plea.

“Cassian doesn’t have to know,” Azriel whispers, his voice dripping with reassurance, each word a gentle caress against your skin. “It’ll be our little secret. I promise.”

You should resist, should want to resist, to pull away and run to Cassian. But his hand slips up, under your skirt, fingers brushing over the thin fabric of your tights. Your body betrays you, squeezing your thighs together, a barely perceptible, breathy whine escaping you.

“We can’t,” you breathe out with a barely visible shake of your head, but you don’t push him away.

“And why not, hm?” He sounds like he’s hardly there, enraptured by the trail of his fingers when they find the waistline of your tights, slipping just beneath the hem to caress your skin directly.

You grab his wrist to stop him, and it’s only then that you tear your eyes away from his to look at the sight. His hand is under your skirt, the fabric draped over his wrist. The fabric is lifted just enough for him to catch a glimpse of your underwear if he were to lower his gaze.

Your heart pounds as you struggle to maintain your resolve. “This isn’t right,” you whisper, your voice betraying the war raging within you.

Azriel’s fingers pause. “Isn’t it?” he asks softly, his voice a soothing murmur. “It feels right, doesn’t it?”

His tone is gentle, almost coaxing. “We’re just sharing a moment,” he continues, his breath warm against your skin. “No one has to know.”

Your grip on his wrist weakens, the conflict within you intensifying with each second. His words, his touch — they’re all weaving a spell around you, pulling you closer.

Azriel senses your hesitation and presses his advantage, his hand resuming its slow, deliberate movements. “Just let go,” he whispers, his voice a dark promise. “Let me make you feel good.”

Your resolve crumbles as his touch becomes more insistent, his fingers tracing patterns of fire on your skin. The forbidden thrill of his touch, the intoxicating promise of pleasure — it’s too much to resist.

With a soft gasp, you finally give in, your back arching as your chest presses into him. “Azriel,” you breathe, but it’s different than before. This time, his name tumbles from your lips as both a surrender and a plea.

Azriel’s smile is triumphant as he captures your lips in a searing kiss, his hands roaming freely now, exploring every inch of you. The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in this heated, forbidden moment.

You know you shouldn’t be doing this. Part of your mind screams at you to stop, to push him away, but the way his hands move, the way his lips taste… It’s intoxicating. The guilt gnaws at you, but the desire is overwhelming, drowning out any sense of right or wrong when his hand slips further into the waistband of your tights, his fingers brushing against your panties. He rubs you through the fabric, and as a soft moan escapes your lips, a groan leaves his. The sensation is electric, a pleasure and forbidden thrill that makes your knees weak. You clutch at his shoulders, torn between the need to push him away and the desire to pull him closer.

You gasp, his name a breathless whisper on your lips. He responds with a low, satisfied hum, his fingers working, pushing you further into your haze. His touch is both gentle and demanding, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. You feel his warm breath against your neck as his lips trail down, leaving a blazing path in their wake. Your body craves more, hips moving in a slow, sensual rhythm against his hand. He doesn’t stop, each stroke deliberate and intoxicating. Your breaths come faster, and you tangle your fingers into his still-dripping hair, pulling him back up for a frenzied kiss.

Desperation takes over as you both rush to tear off your clothes. Your jacket falls to the floor with a distant thud, Tarquin’s phone still in the pocket. The sound barely registers in your mind, consumed as you are by the urgent need to feel Azriel’s skin on yours. His hands move with practiced ease, pulling your shirt up and off, your lips hardly separating. His fingers work deftly at the clasp of your bra, and with a single motion, it comes undone, falling away to reveal your bare skin.

As you kick off your shoes, his lips are already back on your neck, biting, licking, aching for a taste. You step backward, the backs of your thighs brushing against the wall as he tugs down your skirt and tights in one forceful, fluid motion, the urgency in his actions mirrored by your own racing heartbeat. Each step backward leaves a piece of clothing discarded. He pauses, his eyes dark with desire as he takes you in, then his fingers resume their exploration, sliding beneath your panties to rub you directly. You gasp, arching further into his touch, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with the same intensity as his fingers. He pulls back his hand, peeling away and discarding the last bit of cloth. He lifts you then, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. As you both step towards the shower, you hear the soft thud of Azriel’s towel hitting the floor. He guides you closer, the anticipation building with each step. The spray of water hits your skin, and for a moment you're confused.

Azriel’s voice, low and reassuring, cuts through the hiss of the water. “Some privacy,” he murmurs against your lips, a sly smile playing on his face. “In case we get rescued.”

The water cascades over you both. You cling to him, lost in the sensation, the guilt and doubt taking a backseat. His hands roam freely, caressing every inch of your body with a possessive tenderness. His lips trail down your neck, your collarbone, your chest. His fingers find your clit again, circling in slowly, teasingly. You moan into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his kiss.

“You feel so good around my fingers,” Azriel growls against your lips. “So tight and wet for me.”

Your breaths are nothing more than shallow gasps, each one punctuated by the delicious friction of his fingers. “Az,” you moan, trying to keep your voice low. “I need more.”

He smirks, his lips brushing against your ear. “Oh, are you going to beg for it?” A deep hum. “I want to hear those sweet little moans louder, baby, can you do that for me?”

You can’t help but comply, your moans finally growing from whispered gasps as his fingers move faster, curl harder. “Fuck— Yes, Azriel, right there,” you choke out, the last remnant of common sense in you still minding your volume.

“That’s it,” he purrs. “You’re so fucking perfect like this, falling apart on my hand.” His thumb steadily circles your throbbing clit.

Your hands grasp at his shoulders for something to anchor yourself with as the pleasure builds. “Please Az,” you whimper, your voice trembling with need. “I’m so close,” you tell him, a hint of disbelief in your tone.

“Come for me, angel,” he commands, a glint in his eyes. “Show me how good I make you feel.”

Your body tenses, the pleasure cresting, and you let out a strangled cry, a hand over your mouth stifling it. Your orgasm crashes over you in waves, and his name spills from your lips, a breathless chant, as he continues to touch you, prolonging the pleasure.

“That was… wow…” you pant as you come down from your high.

“Good,” he says, his fingers slowing but not stopping. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

Before you can respond, he moves his hand from your breast to your mouth, holding his fingers up to your lips. “Suck,” is all he says. And you do. You take his fingers in, swirling your tongue around them, coating them in your saliva. “You look so beautiful like this,” he murmurs, looking down at you with slightly parted lips. “So perfect.”

He pulls out of you, but just as you’re about to whine around his fingers at the loss, you see him bring them to his own mouth, and you whine at that instead. He groans and his eyes roll back when he tastes you, and the sight sends a rush of need to your core. “Azriel,” you mumble around his fingers, the word muffled.

“Shh, angel,” he soothes, his voice a low rumble. “Just let me take care of you.” His fingers leave your mouth, trailing down your body. Both of his hands come to rest on your hips, squeezing the flesh there. He turns you suddenly, pulling your back flush against his front, and his arms wrap around you. One hand slides between your legs, resuming its torment, while the other moves to cover your mouth.

“Quiet now,” he whispers. “Wouldn’t want anyone walking by outside to hear us, right?”

You nod, hardly processing what he’d said. Your concentration is set on the feel of his toned abdominal muscles pressed against your back.

“You said Cass was waiting for you, right?” he whispers in your ear, the sensation without being able to see him being all the more delicious, but your eyes widen at his words. You let out a frustrated groan, much louder than the noises you made before, though it’s muffled by his hand. “Doesn’t seem like you care too much anymore… What if he comes looking for you? Hm? What then? Gotta keep quiet for me, okay?” You can practically hear the smile in his voice. “For all we know, he could be right outside the door, worried sick about his sweet little (y/n).”

Your heart races at his words, fear and excitement coursing through you. Azriel’s fingers move faster, his hand stifling your moans. “Imagine the look on his face if he found you like this,” he continues. “So needy, so desperate for my touch.”

You shiver, his words igniting a forbidden thrill within you, far surpassing the teasing and casual touches Cassian permitted them all. “Please…” It’s so muffled behind his hand, but he hears you perfectly.

“Please what?” he murmurs, his fingers continuing to thrust in and out of you. “Please make you come again? Or please stop before Cassian catches us?”

Your mind is a whirlwind, the thought of Cassian finding you like this both terrifying and exhilarating. Azriel loosens his hand long enough to hear your response. “Make me come,” you finally whisper, your voice trembling with need. “Please, Azriel.”

“Good girl,” he purrs, his fingers moving with relentless precision. “I want to feel you come for me again.”

You’re teetering on the edge of another orgasm, every nerve ending alight with sensation. The only sounds in the room are the running water, your ragged breaths, and the wet, slick sounds of his fingers working in and out of you at a punishing speed. Just as you’re about to reach the peak, you hear it — a faint squeak of a sneaker on the tiled floor.

Your eyes snap open, panic mingling with the pleasure. Azriel falters for a beat, barely half a second, but doesn’t stop, his hand tightening over your mouth. “Shh,” he whispers right into your ear, his voice dark and heavy with authority. “Don’t make a sound.”

You’re caught in a delicious torment, the fear of being seen only heightening your arousal. The footsteps grow louder, and closer, and then, abruptly, the curtain is yanked open.

Rhysand stands there, eyes wide with shock, then with something else as his eyes rake over your body. His eyes meet yours, then shift to Azriel behind you, his hand still buried between your legs, still moving in and out. A smile creeps onto Rhysand’s face and he crosses his arms, leaning against the wall with a short breath of a laugh.

“Does Cass know you’ve got her here like this?” He juts his chin at you.

Azriel smirks, his fingers still working inside you. “What do you think?”

Rhysand chuckles, his eyes roaming over your body with a detached curiosity. “You think he’ll have you skate lines for this?” he muses. His gaze travels up and down your form, lingering on the places where Azriel’s hands are touching you, but his face remains a mask of calm. Yet you notice his knuckles turning white where he’s squeezing his hands into tight fists.

“Probably. And you’d probably be right there next to me just for seeing her like this,” Azriel replies nonchalantly, only a hint of the raspiness he spoke to you with before remains. “But I think it’s worth it.”

Rhysand nods, his eyes darkening with a predatory gleam. “She’s quite the sight isn’t she?” he says, as if you weren’t even there, as if you were nothing more than a piece of art to be admired and discussed. His gaze meets yours, and you see the raw hunger lurking beneath his cool exterior. It excites you, makes your muscles clench around Azriel’s fingers.

Azriel hums in agreement, fingers curling inside you, drawing a muffled moan from your lips. “Cass is lucky to have her.”

Rhysand's eyes remain fixed on you, a predatory gleam in their depths. He doesn't say anything more, just watches intently as Azriel continues his ministrations. You cling to Azriel's arms, your nails digging into his skin, the need to come overwhelming you.

"That's it, angel," Azriel murmurs, his voice low and soothing. "Get yours, go ahead."

You can see Rhysand hardening in his pants, his cool demeanor betraying nothing but his body telling a different story. The sight only heightens your arousal, pushing you closer to the edge.

With a final, desperate cry, you shatter around Azriel's fingers, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. He holds you through it, his fingers never stopping until you're trembling and spent.

As you come down from your high, Rhysand steps closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "Mind if I join?" he asks, but his question is directed at you, not Azriel.

You hesitate, the conflict clear in your eyes. Azriel tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him. "It's okay," he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "You want this, don't you?"

You swallow hard, then nod slowly. Rhysand's eyes darken with satisfaction as he begins to strip, his movements unhurried.

Azriel’s fingers finally slip out of you, and he gently guides you to lean back against the shower wall and he kneels before you, bringing one of your legs over his shoulder. The warm water cascades over you both, heightening the intimacy. Between your thighs, eyes locked on yours, he starts to kiss a trail up your inner thigh. “You’ve been such a good girl for me,” he murmurs against your skin. “You ready to be good for Rhys too?”

Rhysand, now fully undressed, steps into the stall with a lazy confident stride. He lowers himself beside Azriel, his eyes devouring the sight of you. You can’t help but look away from the sight of both of them admiring your most intimate parts. “Look at you ,” Rhysand says, his voice dripping with approval, and you whine in embarrassment as he spreads your sex. “So beautiful.”

Azriel’s mouth replaces his fingers, his tongue flicking out to taste you, and you gasp, your hands tangling in his hair. Rhysand stands, his hands cupping your breasts with a thumb circling your nipple, eliciting a soft moan from you. “So fucking good,” he murmurs, leaning in to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

His lips are even softer than you imagined, his hands both tender and firm, exactly as you’d fantasized. Azriel’s tongue works with expert precision, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. Rhysand’s hand trails down your body, his fingers joining Azriel’s mouth between your legs, and the combination of their touches drives you wild.

“Does that feel good, angel?” Azriel asks, his voice vibrating against your core.

You nod, unable to say anything more than a quiet ‘uh-huh’. Rhysand’s lips travel to your neck, sucking gently on the sensitive skin there. Your heart shoots up into your throat, hoping they thought about leaving you free of any marks. “You look so perfect like this,” he whispers, his breath hot against your neck. “Tell us what you need, darling,” Rhysand says softly, gently.

“Both of you,” you manage to gasp out, your voice trembling. “I need both of you.”

Azriel’s laugh is low and wicked as he pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with amusement, chin slick with your wetness. “Hear that, Rhys? She can’t get enough — she’s fuckin’ begging for it.”

Rhysand’s fingers trail slowly over your skin, away from your most sensitive, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I know, so needy,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Poor Cassian. Does he know what a slut you are for us? How you’re dripping and ready the second we touch you?”

Azriel’s hands move to your hips, gripping them firmly. “I bet he’s pacing right now, worried sick about his sweet little (y/n),” he taunts, his breath fanning over your pulsing cunt. “And here you are, begging for us to fuck you. Does that make you wet, (y/n)? Knowing he’s waiting?”

You whimper, the heat of their words igniting your shame. “I don’t— It— No,” your eyes turn glassy with tears. You should leave, should somehow get through that door and run to Cassian and confess everything, beg for his forgiveness, and pray he doesn’t leave you for betraying his trust. But the need, the raw desire coursing through you, Azriel’s face between your legs, keeps you rooted to the spot. Before you can wonder how Rhysand even got in, he speaks up, his voice dripping with amusement. “Look at you, stuttering and trembling. You can’t even admit it to yourself, can you? That being a good, filthy little slut behind his back turns you on.”

Azriel chuckles against your core, the vibrations sending shivers through you. “He’s right, isn’t he, angel? Answer him,” he commands, tongue and fingers working in tandem. Then Rhysand’s lips suck and bite at your breast, his hand squeezing at the other. It all pushes you to the brink of your sanity. You can’t deny it anymore. The very thought of betraying Cassian while being worshipped by his two best friends, their words and touch stripping away your hesitance, is intoxicating. The way their voices tease and command, the way their hands and mouths worship your body — every sensation, every whisper, is a direct line to your deepest desires.

With a moan, you finally give in, your voice barely more than a breathless murmur as a single tear falls from your eye. “Yes… God, yes, it turns me on so much…” Your admission hangs heavy in the air for a few moments. Azriel’s eyes gleam with a dark satisfaction, and Rhysand’s smirk widens as if he’s just won some grand prize. The air around you crackles with their shared triumph, and they each seem to revel in having been able to extract the confession from you.

Rhysand’s fingers continue to slide over your skin, his touch commanding and sure, and Azriel shrugs your leg off his shoulder as he stands and steps aside. “Want to feel her, Rhys? She’s perfect.” He doesn’t hesitate for a moment, pushing his middle and ring fingers into you, a groan escaping him at the feel of you.

“Damn… I can’t wait to stuff you full, (y/n). Do you want that? Want us both to fuck you so good, don’t you?”

You must have whined out your boyfriend’s name, because Azriel’s voice adds, “You know we won’t tell if you don’t. Cassian doesn’t need to know about this, right?” His hand comes up to move a wet strand of hair from your face and stays on the back of your neck, thumb rubbing your skin soothingly.

Rhysand’s fingers pump into you deeply now. Their faces are both so close to yours and it takes everything in you to continue to listen to what they’re saying. “That’s right, darling. It’s our little secret, just the three of us.”

“You’re doing so well, angel,” Azriel praises. “Just let Rhys take care of you. We’re here for you.”

“Cassian doesn’t need to know. It’s just us.”

“No one else needs to be involved. It’s our little secret.”

Their voices are thick with charm. It’s meant to soothe, to let you know this is a safe space where your desires are understood and indulged. You find yourself lost in their promises, in their intoxicating reassurance. It all creates a heady mix of emotions, drawing you deeper into the experience and further away from any thoughts of right or wrong.

Suddenly, Rhysand lifts your leg, hooking your knee into the crook of his arm. You gasp in surprise, hands grasping for any point of contact with them to keep yourself from falling. One grabs Rhysand’s bicep, the other lands on Azriel’s shoulder. His voice grows more urgent as he teases your slit with the head of his cock, his breath hot and demanding. “Remember, this is all for you. It’s just us making sure you get everything you want. Okay?”

It’s silent save for the spray of water around you all, and their eyes bore into yours expectantly. They were waiting. If you really didn’t want to do this, this was the moment to give the word. But the intensity of their gaze, the heated promises in their voices, and the way their bodies are pressed so close to yours make it nearly impossible to think clearly. The urgency in Rhysand’s voice and the steady reassurance from Azriel leave you trembling in anticipation. The pressure of their touches, the pleasure, the guilt, the need.

A soft, trembling “Yes” escapes your lips, barely audible, but it’s enough. Rhysand’s eyes light up with satisfaction, and he immediately begins to position himself more firmly, his movements confident and assured.

Azriel’s hand continues to soothe your neck, his thumb stroking gently as he leans in closer. “That’s it,” he sighs absently.

But you reach out and grab Rhysand by the wrist, stopping him. Their expressions shift to confusion; surprise and concern evident on their faces. You pause, a note of urgency in your voice. “Condom,” you manage to say, clearly and firmly.

Their features seem to relax a bit at that. They exchange a glance, and Azriel nods slightly before stepping away to fetch condoms from his locker.

Rhysand takes the opportunity to lean in closer, a genuine softness in his eyes as he looks at you. He gently places a hand on your cheek, his expression turning serious. “(Y/n), if you’re having any second thoughts, you can tell us. We can stop right here if you’re not completely sure, if you’re not comfortable.”

He pauses, giving you a moment to respond, his gaze unwavering and sincere. “We want you to feel good and to be sure about what you’re doing. If you want us to stop, we’ll stop. No questions asked.”

You distantly hear Azriel throw a locker shut. “Rhys… If I didn’t want this, you wouldn’t still have my leg over your arm.”

Rhysand gives a soft smile. “Alright, then.” He leans in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. It felt more intimate than the situation warranted. “Just making sure.”

Azriel returns holding a string of condom wrappers, and steps back into the shower, pulling the curtain shut behind him. Rhysand takes a foil square from him, opening it slowly. Azriel’s hands roam your body, his touch both grounding and electrifying. “We’re going to take our time with you,” he whispers, his breath against your ear. “Make sure you feel every second.”

You look down, watching Rhysand line himself back up, and your breath hitches. He’s big, the thickness of him daunting. The sight sends a thrill of anticipation through you, albeit with a touch of apprehension. He digs his fingers into your hips, the tip of his cock pushing up against your entrance. “Just relax, it’s alright,” he soothes you as he begins to push in, stretching you in ways that leave you breathless. The initial sensation is intense, pleasure and a slight burn as your body adjusts to his size. Every inch that presses into you feels like pure ecstasy. Your fingers tighten on each of them, your eyes wide and not once leaving Rhysand’s.

Azriel’s hand slides from your waist to your lower back, his touch featherlight but reassuring. As Rhysand pushes deeper, Azriel’s fingers trace the sensitive curve of your spine. He leans in, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. “You’re doing so well,” he murmurs. “He’s big, isn’t he?” His other hand cups your breast, rolling and pinching your nipple. The dual sensation of Rhysand slowly filling you and Azriel’s gentle, yet firm, touch on your body makes your head spin. Azriel’s lips find the curve of your neck once again, planting soft, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. The tenderness has you throwing your head back with a sigh.

“Mhm,” you moan slightly with a soft nod. Azriel, still toying with your nipple, gently grabs your chin and guides you to look back at Rhysand.

“Tell him, angel. Tell him how you love being split open by his cock, he wants to hear it.”

You whine, timid, as you look him in the eyes again, the violet deep enough to drown in. “You feel so good,” you manage to whisper, voice trembling. “I love how big you are, how you stretch me.”

But Azriel’s grip on your chin tightened. “Is that what I said?” His tone was domineering.

You swallow a gasp as Rhysand settles all the way in. “I love… being split open by your cock, Rhys,” your breathing coming in pants. “So good…”

You watch his lips curl into a smug grin. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs, pulling out until only the tip was in, then gently pushing himself back into you. But Azriel isn’t done.

“Now tell him you need more, beg him for it.” You can tell he’s got a devilish grin on his face by the sound of his voice.

“Please, Rhys, I need more,” you keen. “I need you to fuck me harder.”

Rhysand’s eyes darken with lust, his nails digging into your hips. “That’s it, beg for it,” he growls, beginning to pick up speed. His thrusts become more powerful, sending waves of pleasure through you.

“Harder, Rhys,” you plead, your voice quivering. “I need you to fuck me harder, please don’t hold back, I need it so, so bad—Fuck!” Your brows knit together in pleasure.

Azriel moves behind you, his strong hands sliding under your thighs. With a swift motion, he hoists you up, your legs hooked over his arms, the hold forcing your legs as far apart as they’ll go. Rhysand takes the opportunity to explore your body with his hands, one wrapping loosely around your throat and the other gently tangling in your hair.

“You feel so fucking good around me,” Rhysand grunts, his breath puffing against your lips. “So tight, so perfect.”

Azriel’s grip on your thighs is firm, his fingers digging into your flesh as he supports your weight. “Doing so well for us, angel,” he whispers, along with other soothing words of affirmation.

Rhysand’s pace quickens, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. His hand around your throat tightens just enough to make you gasp, his eyes locked onto yours. “You fucking like this, don’t you?” he growls. “Being used by us, being our perfect little slut.”

“Yes, God,” you moan, your voice breathless and full of need. “I love it, Rhys, you fuck me so good.” You feel Azriel’s grip tighten and Rhysand’s hips stutter at your words.

“He fucks you good, angel?” Azriel breathes out. When you nod, Rhysand sees him whisper into your ear, the relentless stream of water muffles his words, rendering them inaudible to him.

You shake your head adamantly, the glazed-over look clearing from your eyes. “No, Cassian’s the best,” your voice is steady despite the pleasure coursing through your core with every pump in and out. “No one fucks me like he does.”

Rhysand's thrusts slow but grow more deliberate, hitting deeper with every motion. He moves his hand from around your neck only to roughly grab your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Is that so?” he murmurs, brows raised slightly. He thrusts harder, his eyes never leaving yours, determined to make you doubt your own words.

Azriel readjusts his grip on your thighs, and you can feel his hard length pressing against your ass. “Does Cassian treat you like you deserve? Like the whore you are?” Azriel asks, his voice a husky whisper against your ear. “Does he know how to make you tremble like this?”

Your eyes water, and you bite your lip to stifle a moan. “He… he knows me better than anyone,” you manage to say, though your conviction wavers with each thrust and touch.

Rhysand smirks, his grip tightening on your hips as he increases his pace. “We’ll see,” he growls, leaning in to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue dominating yours.

Azriel’s mouth trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp. “We’re going to make you feel so good, angel,” he whispers for both of you to hear. “So good that you’ll forget all about him.”

Rhysand’s fingers dig into your flesh, his thrusts becoming more intense. “Tell us how it feels,” he demands, his breath hot against your lips. “Tell us who’s making you feel this way.”

Your mind is a whirlwind of sensations, the relentless pleasure making it hard to think. “It… it feels…” you gasp, unable to form coherent thoughts as Azriel’s lips and Rhysand’s thrusts overwhelm your senses.

“Tell us,” Rhysand growls, jackhammering into you, a thumb playing with your clit. “Who makes you feel this way?”

Azriel’s breath is hot against your ear, his voice a seductive murmur. “Just admit it to yourself, (y/n).”

You’re teetering on the brink, the overwhelming sensations pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “You… you’re…” you stammer, the words caught in your throat.

“Say it,” Rhysand commands, his voice rough with need.

Azriel’s lips find the sensitive spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing your skin.

Finally, your orgasm breaks, and you cry out, your body convulsing with the force of it. “Cassian!” you scream, the name ripped from your lips as pleasure crashes over you in waves. Tears stream from your eyes now, whether from the contrition or the sheer bliss, you didn’t know.

Rhysand's eyes flare with anger. His thrusts become more erratic and forceful, his jaw clenched in frustration. The force of his thrusts now left the previous ones forgotten. “Cassian?” he growls, voice low and dangerous. “Was Cassian the one to make you come just now?” Without a word, he grabs you from Azriel. You wrap your legs around him. Without missing a beat, he pulls out almost entirely, leaving you gasping for breath. He slams back into you with a renewed, relentless force. The raw intensity of his thrusts makes you whimper, your body trembling from the overstimulation. His eyes lock onto yours, filled with a fierce determination to make you forget everything but him.

“I don’t want you saying his name while I’m inside you, while I’m the one fucking you dumb,” Rhysand demands, his voice rough and commanding. “Look at you… A crying mess.” He pulls you down onto him with every upward thrust. “Say my name,” he demands, his tone both seductive and demanding. “I don’t care if it isn’t true, while I’m fucking you, you make me believe I’m the only one you want.”

You gasp and moan as his words cut through your tears. “Rhysand… Rhysand, you’re the one,” you whimper, barely able to form coherent thoughts. “I need you… so much.”

Behind you, Azriel’s eyes gleam with a predatory interest as he watches the intense scene unfold. His hand drifts down his body, fingers brushing against his neglected cock. He strokes himself slowly, savoring the sight of you being claimed by Rhysand, the way your body responds so eagerly to every thrust.

“Prove that I’m fucking you so stupid that all you can think about is my name. Can you do that for me? Can you forget about Cassian and make me the only one who matters?”

You nod fervently, your voice breaking. You shout a mantra of “Yes’s,” your body arching in response to his powerful thrusts. “Want you to come…”

Rhysand’s lips curl into a dark, satisfied grin as he listens to your desperate pleas. “Good girl,” he murmurs, movements growing more urgent, breathing growing heavier. “Scream my name while I come inside you,” he commands, his voice strained.

Your body is trembling from the intensity, every nerve alight with overstimulation. “Rhysand! Rhysand!” you cry out, each plea mingled with breathless moans and cries of ecstasy. “Please, don’t stop! I need more, need you to come!”

With a low, guttural sound, Rhysand finally reaches his climax. His thrusts become sharp and erratic, each one punctuated by a shudder as he fills you completely. His grip on your hips is relentless, his body convulsing with the force of his release. “That’s it,” he growls, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You’re perfect. So good for me…”

As he pulls back, panting heavily, Azriel steps forward with a smirk of his own. His gaze is unwavering, and his presence feels almost predatory. He takes you by the waist, guiding you down gently. Your legs feel like jelly, barely able to support your weight, and you stumble slightly as you catch yourself against the cold tiles of the wall.

“Wait, just a sec…” you manage to murmur, still trying to catch your breath. But Azriel isn’t having any of it. His hands are firm and decisive as he presses you against the wall chest-first, pulling your hips back, and pushing your back into an arch.

“No,” Azriel’s voice is a low, fierce growl, his eyes burning with unrestrained hunger. He steps closer, his movements assertive and commanding, an almost primal need radiating from him. As he presses you against the cold tiles, your legs buckle slightly under the weight of his presence. His hands grip your waist with unyielding strength, holding you firmly in place. “No more waiting,” he murmurs, his voice rough and laced with desire. “I found you first. I’ve been waiting my turn, watching, and now I get my time with you. You’re not getting a moment’s rest.”

Your mind is a hazy whirl of pleasure and confusion, struggling to focus on anything. The remnants of your coherence slipped away at some point while you were in Rhysand’s arms — those strong arms — leaving you a trembling mess against the cold wall. You can barely think.

“(Y/n),” he says sharply, getting your attention, or what was left of it. “I’m going to take you, right here, hard and deep, and make sure that every time this pussy gets fucked, you wish it was me doing it. Do you understand?”

Your head nods instinctively, but your voice comes out as a breathy murmur, “Y-yes… want it… need you…” Your words barely form.

Rhysand, still catching his breath, watches with a smirk. “She’s completely lost in it, Az,” he teases, stepping up next to you to run a hand over your wet hair. “I fucked you so good. That’s what you said, right?” He chuckles lowly.

Azriel’s eyes darken as he cuts him a look, jealous when he sees Rhysand running his hand through your hair. “You did. And now you’re done,” Azriel growls, pushing his hand off of you. You whine, missing the comforting touch. He grips your hips firmly and thrusts all the way into you, eliciting a loud shriek from your lips. He doesn’t give you time to adjust to his considerable size before he sets a powerful, unrelenting rhythm, each motion drawing a helpless gasp from your lips. Your legs shake and threaten to give out, but Azriel’s strong hold keeps you steady.

“So fucked out you can’t even think, hm, darling?” Rhysand says in mock sympathy.

“Good,” Azriel mutters into your ear. “Brainless and begging for my cock.”

Without warning, Rhysand drops to his knees between you and the wall, his tongue tracing a line from your thigh to where Azriel is pounding into you. He wraps his arms around you, hands squeezing your thighs and ass, the sensation makes you gasp, your body jolting as Rhysand’s mouth latches onto your clit, his tongue swirling with expert precision. Azriel's grip on your hips tightens, his thrusts merciless. “Do you think about us when you're with him? Do you wish it was our hands on you, our cocks filling you up?”

Your answer is a high-pitched moan, your mind too foggy to form words. Azriel’s hand slides up to your throat, gripping firmly but not cutting off your air. “Don’t just moan like a dumb fucking whore,” he growls, the other hand slapping your cheek lightly a few times to get your attention. He doesn’t stop plowing into you for a moment. “Answer me.”

“Yes! Yes, I think about you,” you gasp out, your voice trembling. “I want you… both of you… so bad.”

Rhysand chuckles against your skin, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “Good girl,” he murmurs against your lips, his tongue flicking your clit mercilessly. “Y’know, Cass’s probably gonna be a fuckin’ mess if he finds out what you’ve been up to, especially since he’s just sitting around waiting for you at the hospital,” he whispers, his voice laced with playful menace. “Just imagine how he’d react…”

Your response is a pitiful whine, tears mixing with sweat as you weakly call out, “Cassian… Cassian… I love him…” Your voice breaks with each syllable, the raw emotion evident in your cries.

You feel Rhysand’s smirk widen against you as he looks up and meets Azriel’s eyes. “Yeah, you love him so much that you’re here with us, right, darling?”

Azriel’s thrusts don’t falter as he grabs you by the shoulders for leverage. “We know you love him, baby. Now take this fucking cock.” And he slams into you with a force that pulls sob after sob out of you. His grip on your shoulders tightens, then shifts. One arm slides up, wrapping a firm, massive bicep around your neck, pulling you back into a headlock, his control over you absolute. Each thrust of his massive cock seems to reach even deeper into you at this angle. “You love being used by us, don’t you? Just a little slut for our cocks.”

“Yes… I love it…” you manage to gasp out, your voice barely above a whisper.

Azriel’s hand comes down sharply on your ass, the sting making you cry out. “That’s right. Scream for me. Let Cassian hear how much you love this.”

He grabs your jaw, forcing you to look back at him. “Look at you, a dumb little whore, taking it so well. You like being fucked like this? Like a toy?”

“Yes… like a toy… your toy…” you whimper, your body trembling.

“Tell me how much you love it, angel. Beg for more. Beg for my cock,” he commands, his voice dripping with dominance.

“Please… Azriel… more… I need more…” you plead, tears streaming down your face.

“I bet Cassian couldn’t fuck you like this. Even when he thinks he’s being rough, he’s too gentle, isn’t he? A pretty little cocksleeve like you needs it rough, huh? Need to be reminded you’re just a hole for us to use,” Azriel growls.

“You’re nothing but a cock-hungry slut, aren’t you? Just a little plaything for us,” he continues, his words sending waves of shame and arousal through you.

Sometimes, you could swear you felt Rhysand’s tongue reach further as if he was tasting you on Azriel’s cock. The sensation is mind-blowing, pushing you deeper, if possible, into submission. Rhysand's tongue continues its relentless torment, occasionally delving deeper, tasting every thrust Azriel gives you. It's overwhelming, the combination of Azriel's cock and Rhysand's tongue driving you to the brink of insanity.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Azriel grunts, his arm tightening around your neck, making you gasp for air. “I can feel you clenching around me. You love this, don’t you? Love being filled up, love being our dirty little secret.”

“Yes… Fuck yes, Az,” you whimper, your voice raw and desperate. “I love it… love our secret.”

Rhysand chuckles darkly, his hot breath teasing your sensitive skin. “Desperate, dripping, and fucked out of your mind for us. What would they all say…?”

Azriel's hand slides from your jaw to your breasts, roughly squeezing and pinching your nipples, adding to the exquisite mix of pain and pleasure. “I want to hear you beg for it, angel. Beg for me to fuck you harder.”

“Please… Az… fuck me harder… use me,” you plead, each word broken by gasps and moans.

He holds you up effortlessly, his strength and dominance undeniable. “I want you to scream my name,” he commands, his voice low and rough. “Scream it so loud that Cassian hears it in his fucking dreams.”

“Azriel! Azriel!” you scream, your body trembling uncontrollably as he drives you closer to the edge.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good. Show me how much this tight fucking hole loves when I fuck it,” Azriel growls.

“I’m just your — fuck — your worthless slut… your cum dump, both of you…” you whimper, the words spilling from your lips without thought. “I’ll take everything you want to give me…”

Azriel’s and Rhysand’s eyes widen in shock, both momentarily stunned by your shameless, complete submission. The brief pause is charged with a dark thrill, their expressions those of surprise and deepened desire.

Rhysand recovers first, a dark smile stretching across his face as he leans over to look up at Azriel. “You hear that, Az? You hear what she’s calling herself?” His voice is dripping with mockery and appreciation. “Tell us again, darling, I love hearing it. How much do you like being used like this?” He leans back into you, his tongue flicking over your clit with renewed intensity.

“Love it so much…! Just want to be filled and used… Want to make you feel good…”

Azriel let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a whimper. “Making me feel so good, angel, you’re perfect… Gonna use you up, nothing else matters but you taking what we give you, do you understand?”

You cry out a string of “yes’s!” the muscles in your body begin to shake uncontrollably. Your ears ring, the sound melding with the pounding of your heart.

Azriel’s hands slide back down to your hips, and he pulls you closer with each powerful thrust, altering the angle to hit deeper. The shift sends a jolt of intense pleasure through you, causing your body to spasm with every stroke. You gasp, feeling every ridge and vein of his cock with heightened sensitivity.

Rhysand pauses his relentless flicking of your clit, his mouth hovering just above your sensitive skin. He takes a moment to savor the sight of you trembling and gasping, his eyes dark with satisfaction. “That’s all us,” he murmurs, his voice a low purr.

Azriel’s breathing grows ragged. “Just let go and take it all. Your body’s ours to use however we want right now, huh?” The depth of Azriel’s movements, coupled with Rhysand’s teasing touch, pushes you to the edge yet again. You cry out, all desperate moans and incoherent babble. Rhysand’s tongue returns to its torment, tasting you come undone on his tongue, leaving you gasping and clinging to whatever coherence you have left. The ringing in your ears doesn’t subside until they finally relent.

Azriel’s breaths come in heavy, ragged gasps as he slows his thrusts, satisfaction in his eyes. “You took us so well,” he murmurs, and he sounds almost as spent as you did. You both collapse against the cool tiles, bodies still intertwined, the sound of the water cascading around you. You reach out and turn the water off, the sudden silence only broken by the soft pants of breath.

Rhysand steps out for a moment and returns with a couple of towels from his locker. He hands one to Azriel, who begins to dry you off with a tender, almost reverent touch. Rhysand grins, wrapping his towel around his waist. "You kept up pretty well," he quips, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You smirk, taking the towel Azriel offers you. "I think you two just like to show off," you tease, patting yourself dry. "Always trying to one-up each other and forgetting about everyone else."

Azriel chuckles, shaking his head as he dries his hair. "Can you blame us?" he replies. "We have a reputation to maintain."

Rhysand steps closer, his eyes darkening with a mix of amusement and desire. "And what about you?" he murmurs, brushing a strand of wet hair from your face. "You’re quite the little fox yourself."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at your lips. "Takes one to know one," you retort, enjoying the way their eyes light up at your sass.

Suddenly, you look at him with curiosity. “Wait, Rhys, what are you even doing here? How did you get in?”

Rhysand smirks, a little sheepishly. "I left my wallet and came back to get it."

Azriel chuckles. "Through the door? We were stuck in here."

Rhysand shrugs. "Oh, that door has been acting up ever since Eris jammed it last month." A look of understanding dawns on Azriel’s face.

Just then, the phone abandoned in your jacket pocket rings, jolting you all.

Fuck.

You rush over to grab it. Your heart races as you see Cassian's name on Tarquin's phone. You answer the call, trying to steady your breath. "Cassian?”

"Hey, babe, what's taking so long? Are you on your way?"

You hesitate, then reply, "We got stuck in the locker room."

"...We...?"

"Yeah, Rhys and Az are here too."

You can hear the suspicion and jealousy creeping into Cassian's voice. "How long have you been in there? Why didn’t you call?”

“My phone is dead, remember? And I don’t know Tarquin’s password to make a call,” you explain quickly.

There’s a pause before Cassian speaks again, his tone tight. “I'll send Mor to help you out.”

You sigh, relief and anxiety mingling. "Thanks, Cass. Love you."

"Love you, too."

As you end the call, you glance back at Rhysand and Azriel, who are both watching you with a mix of concern and amusement. "Looks like Mor is on her way to rescue us," you say, trying to lighten the mood, though you can’t help but worry about your hair still being wet. She’d notice that right away.

"Better get dressed then," Azriel smirks. "Wouldn't want her to catch us like this." Rhysand chuckles, shaking his head, and you smile, the tension easing a bit.

"Definitely not..."

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